


Tricked

by Zeebs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Concubine, Dominant Loki, F/F, F/M, Lemons, Loki-centric, Loki/reader - Freeform, Original Character(s), Post-Avengers (2012), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romance, Smut, lemons everywhere, lokixreader, porn with a plot, slave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:50:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeebs/pseuds/Zeebs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Had a baller sex dream a month ago, figured I'd share. </p><p>You're out from University finally and managed to land a paid, PAID internship with S.H.I.E.L.D. Excited to help humanity recover and deal the with emergence of super humans, you eagerly take the opportunity to work with the World's Leading Defense center. Not knowing that this summer, your internship is going to be quite a bit more than what you expected</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

(y/n) - Your Name

(e/c) - Eye Color

(h/c) - Hair Color

Leaving your apartment for the first day of summer in Washington DC, you’re ecstatic. So much hard work, sweat, and tears and you’ve done it. You’re starting the first day as an intern at S.H.E.I.L.D. They haven’t initially told you what you’ll be working on for them, but who cares! They’re starting over anew after the near catastrophe with Hydra, and are helping to rebuild New York. It’s only been a few weeks since the Hydra incident, and hiring replacements was the first priority, even if they are only temporary. You’ve always wanted to help people, but to be in the thick of the world’s defense quarters … You swallow barely being able to take it all in. Glowing in the moment you notice that you’re ten minutes late.

 

Taking the train, you can’t help but roll back and forth on your feet, how on earth did you lose track of time? You get to the broken building in about ten minutes. You cringe looking at the wreckage. The building itself has been cleared of most of the debris, but multiple scrapes and entire floors have been nearly taken out, and are only now getting the attention they desperately need. It’s surrounded with temporary metal stands, the wrecks of the air ships are piled around the water and the surrounding city. Boats and trucks with gangs of people cleared the wreckage from the water and the streets. Easily over a dozen cranes, bull dozers and trucks with two hundred or so crewmen around. It’s not the chaos that it was a few days ago, but the scars on the surrounding landscape are still there. Besides shield’s obvious casualties, much of surrounding neighborhood was covered with rubble. The two airships had decimated a good portion of the surrounding area with their spiral fall downward. Most of the pieces of the airships have been recovered, the rest simply being pulled out for scrap you assume.

You exhale, nostrils flaring you pick your way through the cleared path to the now-healing headquarters. Out of habit you bite the inside of your cheek, noting that the other interns have probably already left the initial meeting point. You nearly gallop into the lobby, hurtling through paired glass doors only to be showered by a cascade of sparks.

Upon entering the building, you are immediately assaulted by a deafening amount of noise, and for a moment you worry that the loss might be permanent. Sparks fall from the ceiling and you attempt to make your way to the large Eagle logo statue in the middle of the concrete lobby. Deciding that your vision and hearing are pretty important, you cover your ears and lower your gaze to the ground, making a better effort to avoid the piles of broken glass. More sparks rain down from the ceiling as someone rushes forward, handing you a hard hat.

‘Are you one of the Interns? You’re late!’

She yells over the echoing drills and hammers

‘Yes! And I know! Sorry!’

You shout back placing the hard hat on your head as you look up. She motions you to follow her. Eyes widening in shock, you recognize her from multiple papers. It’s Agent Hill – she’s almost always next to Fury in any press coverage. Following her still, you swallow, a sudden feeling of importance falling upon your shoulders. You escape down a hallway that has somehow survived the majority of the damage, currently receiving a new paint job.

‘Apologies for the noise, intern, but we have a lot of fixing around here to do - which is where you come in.’

She continues walking at a brisk trot - making you half jog to keep up with her.

‘What’s your name intern?’

‘(y/n)’

You answer quickly, scrunching your nose up as the drying paint hits your nose. It may have been silent, and less sparky, but the chemicals in the air made up for that.

‘Good name.’ she replies, making a sharp left turn heading towards a door marked stairs. You cough as the paint fumes start to creep into your lungs making it harder to get a decent amount of oxygen. The effort of matching her stride doesn’t help much either.

‘S.H.I.E.L.D. has taken up a new incentive to bring in younger men and women to begin training new employees as soon as possible - we need good people that we can trust.’

The brunette turns to look at you, taking in your brow furrowed in confusion. You had just written about how you wanted to help people no matter where they were … you didn’t think this summer internship would translate into a full time job … You try to stop chewing your lip when you notice her eyes.

‘Also, I’m agent Hill. Please let me know if you have any concerns - but for now it’s my job to get you where you need to be.’

‘I’m so sorr-‘

“For being late? You can’t do anything to change that now.’

Agent Hill curtly cuts you off and opens a door before turning right into an adjoining hall. The rest of the time, you walk in silence with her. Until finally you get to a room marked with a paper sign underneath with ‘Interns’ scrawled on it. _I thought they’d be a little more organized . . ._

‘The rest of the interns are inside - you’ll be able to catch up with the job intro, you haven’t missed much.’

Agent Hill pushes the door open, allowing you to step in.

 

****

You leave room, having stayed a few minutes late just to apologize for being late and to ask if you had missed anything important from the session leader.

Sighing in relief, you close the door to room and start walking back the way you came.

Only was it a right? Or a left? There’s nothing really to distinguish these hallways from the others except the signs beside the stairs. That and all of the rooms and their numbers. Only you’re at 768. _Is that towards the stairs? Or farther away? Where is the ‘stairs’ sign?_ You grumble as you realize you’re lost.

Trying to retrace your steps, you think you’re headed in the right direction when some bloke in a suit steps into the hallway. The late fifty-something man locks his office door, at least you assume it’s his office.

There’s nothing really worth noticing about this slightly balding, grey haired, portly man in front of you. With a click the bolt slides into place, locking what you conclude must be his office. Standing up straight, he turns his head in your direction noticing your presence.

His bright green eyes pierce yours and you blink, taken aback. But when you look again, you’re met with watery blues.

Forcing yourself to be professional you robotically shove your hand towards the man to greet him as you approach.

“Hello, I’m (y/n). I just started today, and I think I’ve gotten a bit lost. Do you know the way to the front of the building?”

You ask with a polite smile formed on your face, nothing you haven’t done about twenty times that day. The round man stares at you, his eyes roaming over your torso a little too long to be considered normal. You begin to wish that you hadn’t bothered to say anything at all.

He finally reciprocates your handshake, surprising you when his grip is so strong. Lastly, he meets your eyes, finished with the rest of your body.

“So nice to meet you . . ?’

“(y/n)”

You respond automatically, glad that you can rely on some verbal skill you’ve had to use over and over again.

“Apologies, I didn’t quite catch that when you first spoke.’

He releases your hand.

“You’ll want to continue this path and then take a left, the stairs should be there. I trust you can find your way from there?’

He almost purrs, and you can feel your hand recoiling just a little too quickly to be considered polite.

“Y-yes, Thank you.’

You squeak as you step away at a pace that Agent Hill would be proud of. As you take a left, you look back down from where you came from. But the man in the suit is gone.

Shivering, you notice that the stairs are not to the immediate left, but to the right.

Rolling your eyes, you take the stairs heading back to the familiar nauseating sent of drying paint. _Perhaps he had made a mistake?_ You think. But there was something in his voice, that tone that leads you to ponder. You shrug, doubting you’ll run into him again. The first day is finally over.

 

******

 

It’s been two weeks since you’ve started your internship, and you’ve barely 20 minutes to call your mom, let alone have down time. You’re always scheduling workers to come in or make sure that some higher ups lunch meetings are planned just at the right time. And not always at S.H.I.E.L.D., your work often comes home with you. The amount of dishes, laundry, and just general mess you’ve been unable to get to makes you cringe just thinking about it.

You tilt your head back and groan, wishing you could be anywhere but at your desk.

The desk is located out at the front of a stack of offices. If anything, you’re the secretary’s secretary of the recovery department, which has recently grown to be massive.

‘So much for helping people.’

You grumble, pushing yourself away from your assigned computer. Standing up you decide its time to grab your third cup of coffee. You head by numerous empty rooms on the way to the break room. It’s nearly ten o’clock in the morning, and your sleep has been intermittent and rare since joining S.H.I.E.L.D. You’ve only been there for two hours, but you can feel yourself falling into a sleep deprived haze. You head down for the third time to day, down a long hallway lined with empty offices. Currently, the room at then end of this hall is the only kitchen with working appliances – for reasons that mystify you, S.H.I.E.L.D. has not bothered to move the fridge or the coffee maker anywhere near you – or your coworkers.

You push your (h/c) hair out of your eyes, just as you feel a hands on your elbows pinning them to your side. You’re so shocked you forgot to shout as the stranger begins to drag you into one of the many ‘under recovery’, unoccupied rooms. Finding your voice you shout, 

‘What’re you – get _OFF!’_

Kicking back with as much force as you can, you land a hit on their shin. Hearing your captor swear you suddenly get thrown to the floor. _Of course this happens when the mandatory self-defense classes start TOMORROW._ Groaning internally, you scramble to push yourself up when a second unsettlingly smug voice chimes in.

‘I wouldn’t run dear, you’ll find what we have to say very, very interesting.’

You stop, turning to look at your attackers. You vaguely recognize one of them, you’ve passed him at many of the meetings or lunches you organized for the Higher Ups, but had never given him much of a second glance. He wears a navy blue business suit, clean-shaven with lanky limbs. The other is one of the many construction workers that have been hired, wearing a filtration mask. You can only see his brown eyes, dust covers his hard hat, neon vest, white t-shirt, and wragged jeans. He’s clearly the muscle.

Suit and Mask, you mentally label them. As you push yourself up on shaky knees, the empty, dark room comes to life as at least twenty computer screens light up around you.

As your eyes flick from screen, to screen, a lump forms in your throat. You watch your mother on the phone as your father busies himself with a pot on the stove, your best friend jots something down in a note book, and many more of your relatives, friends, even old school mates go about their lives on the screens. You’re nearly surrounded by all the people you’ve ever cared about.

Your skin breaks out in a cold sweat as you lock your (e/c) eyes with the cold blues of suits.

‘W-whatever it i-is with m-me, y-you c-can leave them o-out’

You manage to stutter.

“Oh I should hope so, Miss (y/n).’

Suit grins at you, pressing down on a small remote with his left hand as the screens go dark again, leaving a solitary window to illuminate suit and mask from behind.

‘You see girl, we’re looking for someone like you to represent Midgard.’

You swallow hard. Thinking briefly of what you’re going to tell your friends and family.

‘M-midgard?’

You squeak, confused, ‘What -’

‘It does not matter what that means, only where you are going.’

His thin tight lips form a curved sneer, ‘An opportunity will come to represent itself - and you _will_ take it.

‘H-how long will I be gone?’ ’

‘Again, irrelevant. You will be accompanying one of our own as his assistant.’

He leers at you, while mask just continues to stay silent.

‘Be sure not to mention this meeting, we’ll be keeping a close watch.’

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but it won’t go.

Stomach churning, you turn to leave, when suit’s voice stops you.

“Report me, and there will be two more to take my place… However, will someone be able to take the place of them?’

You don’t need to bother to turn around to view your loved ones as the computer screens flicker to life once more.

Pushing the door open, you desperately try to compose yourself as you walk to your desk. Opening the camera on your phone, you fix your face to look somewhat normal. But the knot in your stomach refuses to ease, as you rack your brain trying to think of who they were. As you sit down, your breathing becomes shallow and you begin to hyperventilate - _no, no, no_ \- you take a couple of deep breaths as you tightly grip your desk. _Calm, calm, it’s okay it’s okay_ , you repeat to yourself as tears begin to well up in your eyes.

_Not at work, not here, not n_ o _w_ \- a small ping comes from your computer, a momentary distraction that has come just at the right time. Blinking back the tears, hiccuping as you regain your normal breathing, you open your email.

It’s a request to see Agent Hill immediately.

Swallowing, you check your appearance once more in your phone and decide to make a quick stop in the bathroom.

Fixing your eyes, you finally make it over to her office. The trip is quick, as you’ve figured out a few of the massive, unending hallways.

‘Intern (y/n)’

She greets you as you enter her make shift office, raising an eyebrow, she asks,

‘Something wrong?’

‘N-no, just found out that a pet died.’

You mumble, twisting your fingers subconsciously.

‘I-I’d rather not talk about it.’

‘Understood.’

She registers, nodding. Her eyes yet to have moved from her desktop.

‘I have some news that may take your mind off of that.’

Your stomach knots up again.

‘Mind - You are not allowed to let anyone know where you are actually going and if they ask, you’re going to New Mexico to help rebuild a small town that succumbed to a severe bout of tornados.’

‘Tornados?’ You question, eye brows raised ‘I was unaware they’re a natural phenomenon in New Mexi -‘

“They’re not, but that is where the rest of your fellows are going.’

You swallow, hard.

‘And w-where am I going?’

She sighs, and looks away from her desktop and right into your eyes.

‘You’re going to Asgard - we’re sending some of our own heads to check it out and to make sure that the Asgardians mean no harm. It’s basically to establish an alliance between our worlds - since New York and the London incident, we have great need to build an alliance between our two worlds.’

Realizing you’ve been holding your breath up until now, you exhale. She moves her eyes back to the screen.

‘The objective is to send Midgardians or ‘earthlings’” she quoted with her fingers ‘Up to Asgard to view what their world has to offer but also to establish a positive coexistence.’

Your mouth falls open. So that’s what Midgard means. Balking you squeak out ‘I thought this was just an internship?’

‘Yep, it’s definitely that - you stated that you wanted to travel, and that pertains to this particular mission.’

She glances up at you again, and you desperately try to keep your composure, trying to willfully pull back the need to sweat.

‘Now, you’ll be going to keep track of our agents and representatives and making sure that everything runs smoothly when you’re there. You’ll basically be continuing your work here up there. It should be a walk in the park. You’re lucky that you’re the one who gets to leave …’

Hill looks up again, staring at you just a little too long.

“I’ll be okay to go.’

You say in a rush, trying to ensure the safety for those threatened just minutes before. “I mentioned that I wanted to travel in my application didn’t I?’ You quip, smiling despite the circumstances.

‘How long will I be gone?’

‘about a week. Be ready on Monday to ship out. Meet me at here, at my office, and I will introduce from there to who you’ll be working with.’

You close your eyes, trying to absorb this.

‘Make all the necessary phone calls this weekend, let your love ones know you’ll be unreachable - in a desolate area of New Mexico - with no cell access.’

She pulls open a file cabinet rifling through numerous alphabetized papers, she doesn’t even make it through the file marked A before she pulls out a file labeled ‘Asgardians’.

“You may want to make yourself familiar with this over the weekend, it’s all the info that will be necessary for your time spent there.’

‘Understood.’

You respond quickly, nodding as soon as you say it, reaching for the folder, you tuck it under your arm.

‘See you then.’


	2. Chapter 2

It’s Monday, and you’re riding the subway to S.H.I.E.L.D. The weekend was a sleepless, crying, nightmare. You avoided your phone, ignoring your mother’s and father’s calls after telling them you’d be unreachable for a week following Monday. You couldn’t bring yourself to talk to any of your friends - you’d break. You couldn’t risk bringing whoever Suit and Mask worked for down on them. You had no idea what they’d do. You’ve managed to get through the information that Agent Hill had given you – it was, for the most part, a family tree.

You had heard of Thor, who hadn’t, the Avengers were everywhere these days – but the New York information surprised you – the fact that it was Thor’s brother that had tried to take over the world – with an alien army at that. Odin the ‘All-Father’ _whatever that means_ was Thor’s only living relative now, poor guy. But he had chosen to stay on Earth. _Wonder why_. As well the ‘alien invasion’ that had occurred in London, things were getting pretty strange. And were these realms planets? Or dimensions? The thought only distracts you momentarily, when your own reality comes crashing back to you. You’re almost there. You blink back the forming tears wiping them away - can’t let anything slip.

Your stop comes all too soon.

You step out of the station, and head up to the curb when a black SUV, with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s eagle on the side, slows as they spot you.

No one had mentioned that you would get picked up, your brow furls in confusion as the car pulls to a stop.

The window slowly rolls down, and your (e/c) eyes meet with the same lanky man in the suit who threatened you the week before. The back door opens, and you recognize Mask climbing out, reaching for you. The paint mask he wore earlier, gone, only stubble and thin lips remained. You flinch, but he just grabs your bag, as he turns to take it to the trunk. As he brushes by you he leans in to your ear,

‘Act natural, and get in.’

His voice is gravelly, breath reeking of garlic as it wafts on to your face.

You can feel the bile build in your throat as you force yourself to step into the backseat of the car. Suit removes himself form the drivers seat to join you in the back, you hear the trunk clink shut, and Mask takes over driving, starting the engine and heading towards head quarters.

You try to take up as little space you can in the back seat, pressing yourself to the car door.

‘I assume you have been told what’s expected from you, from S.H.I.E.L.D., but we have more use for you.’

You refuse to look at him, keeping your (e/c) eyes glued to your feet.

He roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

‘Look at me when I speak to you, girl.’

He spits, glowering at you with piercing blue eyes.

‘While you are there you will be under the radar, most will only pay attention to the plausible ambassadors sent, you have no need to be involved in the meetings and ceremonies.’

Releasing you, he pulls a tablet from his coat. He then takes a USB out of his pocket, a skull with six tentacled insignia decorating it. He plugs it into the bottom of the tablet, a password request immediately appearing. Punching in the passcode, he pulls up images of what looks like a blue cube emitting its own light.

“This is the Tesseract, the singular thing that allowed that portal to be opened in New York, and has since been removed from Earth to Asgard. You will search for its whereabouts while you are there, and give all of your information to our insider using this.’

He hands you a small camera phone.

‘The only contact in there is the only one you’ll need. We have used the last of our technology to ensure that messages can travel between our two worlds. If they do not, retrieve images, and give the phone to our mole.’

The car finally pulls up to S.H.I.E.L.D. With a jerk, you stop.

‘And don’t worry about knowing who it is, you’ll be assigned to him almost immediately.’

Mask steps out of the park car, headed to the trunk to retrieve the luggage.

“Enjoy your trip dear.”

The car door gives way, and you quickly slip out, reaching for your bag.

You enter the building at a brisk pace, avoiding the falling sparks where you can.

Managing to make it to Agent Hill’s office in five minutes, you pant placing the bag down.

“Ready to go!”

You breathe, looking back up after your bag slides off of your fingers.

When you glance upwards, your eyes widen with shock, it’s the same balding, round man that you saw locking his office two weeks ago.

‘Ah - yes, Hello, Hello - I’m Bill Wuthers.’

He nearly stumbles over himself to shake your hand

“Simply lovely to meet you, I don’t think we’ve met before.’

He chuckles.

‘No, I don’t think we have …’

You reply slowly, carefully choosing your words – it’s definitely the same man – but his personality has seemed to change completely.

‘I’ve heard so much about you, It’s simply fantastic to meet our best intern - I’m very excited to work with you.’

He continued to babble on and on about all the things that you would be working on in the coming week, all the amazing sights you’d be seeing - as much as you wanted to get excited over this, you couldn’t. Grabbing your suitcase you follow them out the door joining a trickle of people all headed in the same direction.

Nodding and agreeing when needed to, you follow Wuthers and Agent Hill joining up with another group of business men. You feel that all too familiar clench in your stomach as you recognize Suit amongst the multiple other advisors and various heads of multiple departments of S.H.I.E.L.D. You also notice a surplus of female agents. Nearly for every male agent or advisor there seemed to three women.

Shrugging it off, you had noticed that the majority of interns at the orientation were female as well. Maybe SHIELD was finally getting with the times. More women are needed in upper level positions - nothing abnormal for a top organization.

Following the flow of the crowd, the crowd of roughly twenty-five people file into the three elevators. Heading to the top of what’s left of the S.H.I.E.L.D. building, a lone helicopter pad is just large enough to fit the group.

Agent Hill stops, and walks back towards the door. Tugging the handle, she yanks the roof door open, and lets Colonel Fury enter.

Suddenly the chatter around you fades as everyone turns to look at Fury.

He strides over, and silence encases the group.

“All of you are headed into our hopeful Ally’s world. Asgard.’

He pauses, looking at each individual of the group.

“All of you are aware of what transpired in New York, but also what happened here just a few days ago.’

He motions towards the water that nearly surrounds the building.

‘We need help. We need help to be able to defend ourselves from internal threats, as well as extraterrestrial ones. And we cannot hope to do that with out Asgard’s help. The man that they have left with us has continued to fight for the good of humanity, and we assume that his home planet will do the same. It is up to all of you to make the best impression you can, and with any luck, Asgard and Earth will be able to make both of our worlds much, much stronger than they were before. Thank you.’

He nods, then looking up to the sky, mouth sealed shut in a tight line.

“Hope this works.’

You hear someone grumble to your left, as you crane your neck above you.

‘HEIMDALL, we need your assistance! Open the Bifrost!’

Fury yells into the sky. Nothing happens. Someone else coughs to your right. You turn to look a Fury and Agent Hill, but you’re suddenly enveloped in light. Bright white light engulfs you, and you can feel your feet leaving the ground. Tears stream from your open eyes as you try to absorb the rampant amount of stars and bursts of color that fly past you. You can hardly wrap your brain around the speed that you’re traveling at. And then this crazy tunnel of light somehow manages to spit you out into this near globe like room filled with cogs, enormous golden gears, and glass circular windows full with stars.

After everyone is thrown into the room, you’re rather proud of yourself for managing to keep your footing. And to your enjoyment, Suit does not land on his well polished shoes, but rather on his ass.

You can feel yourself grinning despite yourself watching him curse as he pushes himself up off the floor.

You dodge his glare, stealing your eyes away to appreciate the incredibly intricate and near delicate inner working of the gears spinning in tandem above your head.

Your eyes glued to the ceiling, you grin – you walk to follow one of many golden orbs roll back across the ceiling. Your pace quickens, you soon jog to keep track of the gold orb. Your shin bumps into a large dome in the center of the room. Surprised, you lose track of the orbiting sphere.

Eyes following the curve of the half dome, you suddenly notice the towering man on top of it. His hands resting on the hilt of a huge golden sword that matches his glistening honey colored armor. He smiles down at you, his warm, gold eyes sparkling as the glint of the enormous gears overhead churn and clink.

Your mouth is agape with wonder. His eyes snap away from you, his voice booming over the chatter and the audible gasps of disbelief from your coworkers.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

The whispering dribbles out into silence after everyone lays their eyes of the source of the offending party.

‘Lady Sif and the Warrior’s Three will be here ease the last bit of your journey. The lot of you will be to the castle as soon as possible. Do not have misgivings about your honesty with suffering illness after the bifrost.

You wander back to Mr. Wuthers, who had some how managed to spill his suitcase all over the ground, his papers strewn everywhere. You immediately recognized the ridiculously detailed and numerous Asgard memos on the floor. The same ones that had kept you up until 3 am to do. You had edited and sent them off to Wuthers in the hopes that he would have given the meeting schedules out as he promised he would. With a sigh you help him, placing your bag to the side. Reorganizing and stacking them before placing them inside your duffel bag.

‘Ah – thank you (y/n) I barely even noticed, I think that the bifrost blasted a bit of my case away!’

The side of his brief case was badly charred – like a heated metal rod had sawed its way through the brown leather.

“Um sir, I don’t think you can place those back in there. ‘ Reaching over, you point out the burn. ‘We can place them – for now – in my bag.’

‘Of course (y/n), You’re so clever, what would I do with out you.’

He continued to prattle on, as you quickly scooped up the rest of the papers. Placing them as neatly as possible on the top of your clothes and miscellaneous things.

Looking up, you see four vast – what it looked like, floating? – air ships arriving. They pull up to the side of what you now noticed, a huge crystal path way, sparkling in the sunlight, like a large glistening rainbow extending throughout. It ends just as meets the opening of the large golden dome currently encasing you.

_This is incredible._

Unable to contain yourself once again, you run forward, forgetting your duffel bag, leaving it with Wuthers. Your shoulder smacks into something, but you continue to run, hardly noticing it.

Once you make it out of the golden orb's entrance you notice the multiple airships unloading a fury of golden armored warriors, four of them wearing little metal and more leather.

You remind yourself to breathe as your eyes widen, the platform you're on is translucent, iridescent crystal with a boiling ocean below.

A glistening city lies at the end of this rainbow bridge, buildings and luscious forests surrounding what appears to be a golden castle encircled with clouds.

You can feel yourself get goose bumps. With all of this surrounding you, you nearly forget the threats hanging over your head.

That ends, rather suddenly.

SHIELD's designated group engulfs you, surrounded by various employees, someone roughly grabs your upper arm.

'Don't make yourself obvious.'

Suit hisses somehow keeping a neutral tone, keeping a passive look on his face.

Good feelings gone, you stare at the luminous crystal below you.

He guides you by the arm with force back to the side of Wuthers, if that's even his real name.

~~Earlier~~

Strolling down the bifrost pathway, hands tucked behind his waist he can't help but nearly hum.

Odin would be so, so very displeased. Letting mortals, and at that, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents into Asgard which would clearly be intent on obtaining new weapons. He can't help but grin.

The only disappointment was that Loki would be unable to be himself. Currently invisible, with a doppelganger imitating the All-Father on the throne, he had decided to escape being puppet master for a bit. As much as ruling all of Asgard brought him pleasure, it was good to be up and around rather than lounging on the throne listening to underlings.

Still slightly hesitant around Heimdall, his breath caught as he slipped unheard into the golden globe. Loki exhaled, his breath coming out as a low hiss.

Now all he had to do was wait.

With a crash of lighting, Heimdall summoned the mortals, and they spilled out into the room. Many of them tumbling and crumpling to the ground, trunks and packs spilling their contents. Gleeful that the bifrost had sliced some things open, he watched the midgardians scurried across the floor, struggling to gather their various belongings. Loki recognized them all. Having done some of his own scouting well before S.H.I.E.L.D. had, he had made sure quite a few people had come that weren’t – ah, _prepared_ – as some others would have been. A couple of people managed to catch themselves, suitcases intact as well as their pride. One female gloated as she noticed one of her elders had landed on his rump.

Most of the mortals then converged with their fellows, assisting them. Except one.

This particular mortal seemed to be cowed by what was around her after her glee of her superior taking a fall. She nearly ran into Heimdall her focus was clearly not on what was in front of her, but more so what was around her.

He recognized her from that broken building – having given her some altered directions previously while possessing another mortal.

Loki walked past her, absentmindedly kicking some of the various belongings scattering the floor further away from their owners.

He rolls his eyes as Heimdall's voice echoes through the sphere. Always the one to impress. Turning around to leave, Loki nearly trips over the mortal that was so distracted earlier.

Managing to dodge a particularly embarrassing fall, Loki manages to step around her. Catching a wiff of her flesh.

She reeks of anxiety, which nearly smothers whatever lavender scent and wonder, something is clearly amiss.

Like insects, nearly all the other mortals are giving off similar smells, amazement and wonder. _Why, oh why is this little one so afraid?_

He runs a hand through his hair, scoffing at the small man who is struggling to pick up the various pieces of parchment around him with out her help.

_Like it's worth my time_

he snears, deciding to stroll back to the entrance.

Looking up Loki acknowledges the barges headed over, just as planned - nothing out of sorts. It would take much too long for the Midgardians to walk.

Loki nearly reaches the exit when someone clips himoin the shoulder, catching him off-guard he stumbles managing to catch himself - furious he looks up.

It's the same mouse from earlier. Wonder overtaking her fear again. She hadn't even noticed the invisible trickster.

'Oblivious fool.'

He mutters, stepping to the side as the rest of the vermin swarm to the landing airships.

Keeping his eyes on the distracted girl, another drone from the group roughly grabs her, clearly displeased.

Loki walks around them, getting a better view of this confrontation.

The girl's face has become a forced calm, and he can almost taste the despair.

'Don't make yourself obvious.'

The lanky man hisses, clearly dismayed at her actions.

_How interesting._

Loki smiles to himself, making a mental note to keep an eye on the man. Electing to follow the girl, who seems much more entertaining than the others. Currently covered in goose bumps, she visibly swallows, clenching the side of the air ship she gazes down to the swirling depths of the ocean.

He watches as the golden armored guards assist mortals left and right, piling various belongings in the back.

After climbing into the air ship unnoticed, he places himself on the luggage - giving himself a view on all those around him.

What a grand decision it was, allowing more mortals into Asgard. Loki exhales, satisfied that ruling over Asgard just got a little more amusing.

~~~

The flight was surprisingly quick - you had flown over so many homes, market squares – by the time you landed next to this metallic mountain you had already seen most of Asgard from above.

‘All of you make it?’

You hear a shout from below, and do a double take. You had been briefed in their files before hand, but you hadn’t expected to see them so soon.

‘Yes – and Thor sends his condolences that he was unable to make it.’

Suit calls down. _Of course he’d be the highest authority on this trip._

The same armor cladded woman answers, hands placed on her hips she retorts,

‘Of course he couldn’t. May we escort the lot of you to your quarters?’

‘With a tour of the kitchens first, Sif.’

A large red bearded man jibes, nudging her with his elbow.

“Obviously, Volstagg - can’t have our guests starving now can we?’

‘Sif – they’ve seen Asgard from above but surely not the inner workings, we must –‘

‘Hogunn of course-‘

Sif interrupts him, and the two start muttering, the airship you’re on begins to unload, people and suitcases tumbling off with the help of the guards.

‘My Lady . . . Ah! My Lady.’

A Golden haired man covered in green garments bows, shaking hands with everyone, bowing to several women. When presented with the women’s hands, he stops to kiss each one.

But right as you’re next in line, a suitcase manages to sail through the air, nailing him in the side. Causing him to gasp, the pain distracting him from the disembarking girls.

‘Serves you right Fandral, can you help us organize all of this _now_?’

Sif scoffs, pulling the suitcase away from him.

‘Let’s get everyone cleared off of here – your belongings will be placed at the chambers assigned to you.’

The crowd huddles together, you can’t bear to be in the middle – you want to at least _see_ things on this trip.

Making sure to stay on the border of the group, Lady Sif leads you through a large opening into the depth of this golden behemoth.

Hogunn, Volstagg, and Fandrul linger, eventually mingling with the crowd.

After a brief tour of the castle, you learn where the kitchens are, where the rows upon rows of rooms lay for housing what seems like an infinite number of guests.

‘Ma’am, if I may be so bold – when will we be meeting the All-Father?’

Suit asks walking along side Lady Sif, clearly impatient.

‘As soon as he requests the lot of you. for now - ’

She rounds a corner, coming to a halt.

‘- I suggest you lot unpack and try to adjust, the bifrost affects everyone in different ways, not so much Asguardians, but we’re not fully sure what it does to you Midgardians.’

You follow the current as people begin to flow past her, picking out their suitcases in front of the doors.

You can hear Suit arguing with the Viking warrior, but are glad to get away – you want, no, _need_ some alone time just to let everything settle.

You walk for almost ten minutes until you find your duffel bag, and looking around it seems like you’ve gotten the last room at the end of, well as far as you know, this floor of guest rooms.

Slinging it over your shoulder, you turn the handle, the door creaking open.

You’re a little disappointed, but you’re not exactly the piece de resistance among your coworkers.

The room consists of a simple cot, covered with furs, plush pillows, and a cushy mattress. Throwing your bag on it, you sneeze as dust erupts from the bed, a heavyset chest at its foot. Clearly this room hasn’t been used in a very, very long time. Looking around you notice a full-length mirror, and a rickety wooden chair that seems to be crafted out of sticks and logs. A red pillow rests on the seat.

The door slams behind you unexpectedly, and you whirl around expecting Suit or Wuthers to have joined you.

But no one’s there.

You shiver, and open up your duffel bag. You head over to the chest, and open it. It’s empty, save a couple of cobwebs. With your hand you sweep them out when you feel someone exhale against your neck.

You jerk to a standing position, one hand clasping the back of your neck. Your eyes search the room, but again, there’s no one there but you.

Unconvinced, you throw your dufflebag and all of its contents into the chest – and then rip all the blankets off of the mattress – there could be someone, or _something_ in here with you and this bed is pretty chunky.

~~

_Certainly a little cautious for a mortal_

Loki places himself on the only existing chair, yanking his head to the left to avoid being beaned by a pillow. She pauses, her eyes racing across the room. He watches the girl rip apart the bed, eventually even removing the mattress. Still unsatisfied she gets on her hands and knees crawling under the bed frame. In her fevered search, the girl is unaware that her skirt rides up deliciously – exposing those lovely supple thighs. It’s ruined though when she falls flat on her belly, pulling herself completely under the frame, coughing viciously as her frail little lungs cannot deal with a bit of dust.

_Should have sent someone to cleanse these rooms, though a nuance such as this can’t be_ that _taxing._

Standing up, he picks his way through the scattered bedding, allowing his footfalls to be heard ever so slightly.

The coughing ceases, and he can’t help but chuckle – granting that to grace her ears as well as she attempts to stifle her breathing.

Deciding to let the girl overthink her paranoia, Loki strides to the door, opening it and closing it slowly, not with the same force as earlier, but just enough to cause her worry.

Now for that show in the Throne room.

~~~

As you hear the door click shut, your breathing continues, but at a quicker pace that usual. _What was that?_ You think slowly sliding yourself out from under the bed using your upper arms to drag yourself out.

_It must be after affects from riding the bifrost. It’s got to be._ You tell yourself, saying it over and over again like a prayer. You fall onto the removed mattress, and decide to sleep it off. Someone will fetch you if you’re needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2~ Please let me know if I missed something - I realized I missed quite a few things in the last chapter that I went back and fixed. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed this chapter around from where it was previously posted! Apologies~ Working on the 4th chapter now~ Enjoy!

With at rap at the door, you sit up, trying to blink away the sleep from your eyes. You shove the blankets off of you, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards the door.

‘Hello? (y/n) are you there?’

It’s Wuthers. You can tell it’s him due to his wavering voice.

‘Yes – sorry, just a moment!’

You call, trying to straighten out your skirt and instead of bothering to straighten your sleeves, you roll them up, walking over the pillows strewn over the floor.

Cracking the door open in attempt to hide your mess, you peer out.

“Yes? Can I help you?’

You ask, peering through the crack in the door frame that you’ve made.

Wuthers almost immediately shoves his foot in the door, forcibly shoving his torso in between the frame and the door.

‘Now _really_ isn’t a good time!’ You try to shove the door back, but he has caught you off guard and weasels his way into your room. You step away, alarmed.

He nudges the door shut, as you move backwards, giving yourself a couple of feet between you and him.

Thankfully, he doesn’t bother taking a few steps forward.

‘Getting used to our surroundings hmm?’

He ponders, nodding towards the bedding covering the floor.

You can feel the tension in your shoulders ebb away, lulling yourself into some false sense of security – maybe he just needs to speak to you privately? You mumble a response,

‘Yeah – I thought I’d heard something –‘

‘It doesn’t matter, we are going to be _graced_ by the presence of the All-Father very shortly.’

His cheery, bubbly tone was still there, but bitterness is thinly laced in between his words.

‘I had hoped, that Smith would have made it _abundantly clear_ what you were to be doing while here? We’ve already been shown around this gold mound, why, oh _why, are you still in your room?_ ’

His asked shrilly, spittle flying as he finished his question. Wuthers face had grown quite red, a vein throbbing in his temple. _At least I know what suit’s name is._ You look down, noticing that his meaty hands are clenched into fists.

‘ – I- I’m so sorry, I’ll b-be on it right away, I just figured it would be a little too soon to search with us just arriving.’

You manage to answer, adding on to your reply.

‘We have to lull them into some sense of security, we may be from another planet –‘

‘World.’

Wuthers corrects you, hands relaxing a little more, and you sense that he may listen, rather than scream, and physically threaten you – besides, you could probably take him. S.H.I.E.L.D. had managed to teach you a thing or two before you left.

‘-Nuances, still, they must be a little suspicious if SHIELD seeks an alliance – we were in fact, mimicking their weaponry on earth for quite sometime, it would be almost obvious to attempt to rob them as soon as we’ve landed.’

You finish, proud of yourself as Wuther’s face seems to cool back into a neutral color. Leaning against the wall, you gaze at him trying to keep your composure.

‘Point taken. Still, I cannot condone your napping, nor your sloppy habits. Pick up after yourself, you of all people cannot afford a maid finding anything.’

Wuthers remarks snippily, his hand reaching for the exit.

You inhale, exhaling slowly, relieved that you’re getting off that easy.

‘When should I join the rest of you to see the All-Father?’

Wuthers has already turned back towards your door, pulling it open.

‘In about fifteen, one of the brutes that guided us here should be back to escort us. And you may want to freshen up, (y/n) we need to look professional, not like we have just rolled out of bed.’

He looks at you, his mouth a thin line as he pointedly looks you up and down. Eyebrows raised he sighs, annoyed.

‘Y-yes, of course. But, um – where’s the bathroom?’

You hadn’t seen one when you had initially done your search. Blessedly, bodily functions had not come calling until now.

‘Behind the mirror – it’s a door.’

He spits, clearly annoyed. With a clack the door shuts. You walk over, just now noticing the latch to lock the door. It’s a simple lock, just enough to block someone from pushing the door open to your room. The door is solid wood, covered in multiple Nordic ornate designs. They’re carved in multiple loops and animals chasing each other along the border. Your trace some of the knots with your fingers, momentarily distracted. _I need to get ready._ You turn away careful to weave your feet through the scattered pillows.

You straighten your pencil skirt in front of the mirror _is office wear formal enough for meeting the All-father?_ Shrugging you grip the side of the mirror, giving it a sharp tug. It doesn’t budge. _Other side._ Rolling your eyes you pull the mirror open, stepping into a small, yet lavish bathroom. The tub is sunk into the floor, the sink and toilet raised, a screen set up to separate the two. The screen itself is just more polished wood interwoven with – from what you recognize – Celtic knots. The entire room seems to be carved from a single huge cube of marble. And it’s absolutely spotless – there’s not a spot of dust anywhere.

A little perturbed you make your way over to a small circle of a mirror above the sink.

Turning the singular white handle, a stream of water begins to pour out of the tap and you quickly wash off your face, repeating your usual morning routine.

Glancing at the watch strapped to your wrist, you realize you have two minutes until you’re supposed to be ready.

In a panic you lift the mattress up and back onto the bed, throwing the blankets and pillows on top. It still looks disheveled. You scrunch up your nose in annoyance. _Whatever, I’ll fix it when I get back_.

Turning to get back to the door you hurriedly stuff your blouse back into the top of your skirt. Nearly reaching the door you look down at your feet.

 _Shoes_.

You whip around, eyes roving the room, but your flats are nowhere in site. You realize with a rush that they must be under the blankets you’ve just piled up.

Once more you tear through the bed when you receive a polite knock on the door – struggling, you yank out one, two shoes swiveling back around you slap both flats on the floor, stepping into them.

‘Sorry!’

You call, worried that you may make yet another male explode with impatience.

You manage to grab a pad of paper and a pen.

_Whilst sabotaging the alliance, I also gotta do my intern work._

Pulling the door towards you, you blink, the light in the hall blinds you momentarily a silhouette blocking your view as the person comes into focus.

‘Ready?’

Her voice is cool, collected and she’s wearing steel armor, red leather underneath.

Hair up in a tight ponytail, her eyes lock on to yours, and she grins.

‘Took you long enough, do have your necessary means to fulfill your assigned tasks?’

She smiles, and you nod, in awe of her presence. Mouth agape you snap it shut, embarrassment bubbling up to your face.

‘I am Lady Sif – please, come join the assemblage of your fellows.’

She motions down the hall, you take a step in front of her rushing to catch up with the thrall of Midgardians.

The walk to the Throne room is a short one, down the hall and down several gold swirling staircases that cover at least four stories.

 _Asgardians love their high ceilings_ you muse, clutching a notepad in your left, a pen in your right. You look out from the stairs, huge pillars cascading from the ceiling. It’s almost like being in a glade of huge trees. Only it’s cold, and full of stone. The only light comes from a glimmering, glowing throne at the end of the hallway, illuminated by sunlight spilling in from intricate windows behind it.

You’re going to be among one of the first Midgardians to hear the All-Father speak – you can’t afford to miss out on a single word. That, and you have absolutely no idea what your S.H.I.E.L.D. may want from this. Not recording it somehow may come back to haunt you. The stairs end, and you can hardly hear yourself think as the noise from everyone’s footsteps clacking against the ground.

-

The approaching click of shoes makes S.H.I.E.L.D.’s little troop sound similar to a group of deer, hooves clunking across the black marble. Removing himself from his usual lounging position, he sits forward, leaning toward the approaching flock.

_Decisions, decisions._

They file into a semicircle, faces neutral but focused - one of them with a pen poised. _Was she really going to record this illustrious little gathering? Charming, S.H.I.E.L.D. really was desperate for allies._

Several gold clad guards emerge from behind the uplifted platform the throne sat atop. Lining up at the bottom making a glimmering display.

'The King, Our All father,'

Sif stepped forward, addressing Loki directly

'Shield has sent some of their best warriors,'

A couple of Midgardians look over at her, looking very alarmed.

'and scribes.' 

There's an audible sigh of relief. He can't help but roll his eyes.

_Were they expecting to be thrown into a pit with her? That would be amusing, but Sif would slaughter them all in minutes._

Standing with exaggerated effort, Odin-Loki pulls himself to his feet, right hand grasping his scepter, he opens his arms wide he begins to address the tiny committee. 

'Welcome to Asgard, Warriors and Scribes of S.H.I.E.L.D. It is Asgard's great pleasure to host multiple Midgardians at once, though this world cannot become a permanent home nor a traveler's rest for the whole of Midgard's population.'

A couple of mortals in the semi circle nod in agreement, one scribbles furiously away frantic to catch every word. He lowers his arms, leaving the scepter to stand on its own, placing his hands behind his back.

'Since my only remaining son persists to stay on Midgard, serving already as a guardian of your realm, I ask nothing in return but an ambassador or liaison to remain in Asgard as long as I see fit – or however long Thor plans on stating on Midgard. At the end of this weeklong journey, I will choose one to stay amongst your ranks. These are my terms. With this we will have a permanent resident Midgardian, and S.H.I.E.L.D. will remain with Thor.' 

A few of the elders raise their eyebrows, clearly confused. 

'In return, when S.H.I.E.L.D. is in need of assistance to defend your realm, the whole of Asgard will strive to assist in anyway our resources may allow.' Several looks are exchanged, and finally some more nods.

'We will have all week to discuss the terms, but I will not elect the ambassador until the last day, nor will I compromise on who I decide upon.'

Some of them shift their weight clearly uncomfortable with his speech, coming close to revel in his own success, a scritching noise distracts him. It's the same girl, his lip curls in annoyance as she dots something, clasping the parchment to her chest, paper crumpling, nearly echoing through the hall. Now choosing to stare up at him. Taking a long breath, then exhaling in annoyance he continues, 

'I'm sure the lot of you are famished, having trekked so far - in celebration of your journey here, and the new bond being forged between the two realms, a grand feast will be held this night to honor our connection.' 

Applause speckles the hall like rain, it is over as soon as it has started, and slowly the click of shoes ascends the stairs. Grumbling and whispers emerges from the bumbling crowd. But Loki does not fail to notice that his previous puppet grabs the noisy scribe roughly by the shoulder, to whisper ever so harshly in her ear. 

Breaking away, the girl stands there, close to quivering - then slowly, at a painful pace follows her superior. 

_Continues to entertain._

He muses, leaving Odin's form, allowing the husk to do his bidding, debating to slink after her. But thinks better of it, instead silently following after the puppet. _Best to know what the vermin are plotting._

Following the round man, Loki finds himself in the simple chambers arranged for the Midgaurdian. With a few whispered words, he blocks the room from Heimdal.

There’s another, lankier male already waiting for the pudgy man, perching on a chair in the small room. He is well dressed, and notably younger than his counter part.

‘Has she actually started to look? Has she even bothered marking down where things are? At least something useful with that obtrusively noisy paper?’

He snarls, clearly agitated.

‘Not yet, Charles. We’ve hardly been here for 6 hours and you’re expecting that she’s already found the damn thing and headed back to Hydra.’

The Round man sighs, clearly annoyed at the other man’s impatience.

‘We may have suffered an embarrassing defeat, but Hydra’s comeuppance will take longer than a day to occur my friend.’

The pudgy man takes out a golden liquor, followed by two glasses. He fills them generously handing one to Charles.

Charles growls a thanks, leaning back into the chair crossing his legs ‘I suppose you’re right. Having the whole of Asgard against earth would be quite a problem. Hydra can’t rule over a planet if it ceases to exist.’

‘That’s the spirit.’

The elder nods, taking a seat in the chair opposing the lanky mortal, a small table in between them.

‘That camera phone should be taken from her before we head back, I don’t trust that it’ll make it into our hands at the end of this trip if she still has it when we return..’

Charles nods in agreement. ‘We need to keep an eye on that Sif. . .She’s much too observant for my liking.’

Pudge ignores his grumbles, and concludes,

‘Our little page girl will find something pertaining to the tesseract. As soon as we know where it is, the easier it will be to handle the situation and remove the power source.’

_Interesting angle. Not as though I’ve tried that previously._

He rolls his eyes, sitting in a chair in the corner. Chin resting on his fist, eyes intently watching the two. When a thought crosses his mind, and the corners of hie lips curl upwards.

 _I suppose they could run in circles for a while. Besides, I could always use some sub orderlies when Midgard is_ finally _under my control._

~~~

As soon as the ambassador meeting was over you were roughly reminded why you were here once again. You're back in your room, cleaning making sure you're 'professional' _ugh who cares what this room looks like, not like anything's going to happen in here._

Hoping that a new top and the skirt you’ve been wearing all day is passable, you move to the bed. After rearranging the mass of furs and pillows, you head out the door stomach set on the smells wafting down the hallway.

- 

The feast is a grandiose affair - huge platters of ridiculously garnished foods, you could have sworn peacock and swan had been on the table, not to mention the huge boar spinning over coals in the center of the grand hallway. Trying to have a bite of everything you're well beyond full way before the dishes have stopped flowing from the doors. The All-Father sits in the thick of it. Lounging back in the chair, refusing most of the platters. But you pay little attention to him. Hearty near bucket sized mugs of mead are passed around and most of your coworkers happily indulge, a couple of them attempting to drink Volstagg under the table, Fandral with a red face, arms draped over a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D. ladies shoulders glasses of mulled wine in each hand. Hogunn stares at the trio disapprovingly, fingers laced together in front of his face, not touching a drop of booze. You sip politely on some mulled wine, from a cup that looks suspiciously like a Ram's horn. 

It doesn't take long for the alcohol to sink in - your coworkers are all passed out, the Asgardians just beginning to slur their words. Even you’re a little out of it – you nearly stumble getting out of the bench you were seated at. _There must be more alcohol in these beverages than anything on earth_. Nearly all the people giggling and giddily stumbling to their rooms barely spoke, rather than betrayed emotion in the office. The All-Father bids adieu and leaves the hall as somewhat sloshed Guards begin to escort or carry inebriated Midgardians back to their rooms. Which is incredibly entertaining, because the golden cloaks themselves have had a fair amount to drink to match. You slip out of the bench creeping from pillar to pillar, your presence unnoticed by the inebriated Guards. You remove your shoes, opting to carry them rather than have the noise give you away. The marble is cold against your feet, your stockings barely giving you any warmth.

With a deep breath - you enter the throne room which is completely silent. It's near complete darkness - only the outlines of the pillars are visible. You decide to stick to the side of the room keeping one hand on the wall you make your way towards the throne. 

Tac . . . tac . . . tac . . . tac . . .

You look around, pausing. Your shoes are in your hand, _who's making those foot falls?_

As soon as you've stopped, the footsteps are silenced. _Maybe I’m imagining this? It might just be my mind playing tricks on me._ You glance around but you still can't see anything. 

Your breath quickens, as does your pace. You get to the throne in five minutes, even in the darkness you can just make out the glow of the gold. 

Now, you had seen guards disappear behind the raised platform behind the throne, there must be something back there.

You make it to the wall directly behind the throne. There’s nothing but a wall of granite.

You take a step forward, sighing as you look around, but there’s nothing. Abruptly, your foot sinks down, the block you stepped on moves downwards, grinding against its neighbor.

You wince as the noise echoes through the hall.

Holding your breath, you wait for something, or someone to notice. But there’s nothing but silence.

The stone that the throne is elevated upon suddenly begins to make a grinding noise. Arms outstretched you make it to the back of the throne, flickering light catching your attention, guiding you to the mouth of a tunnel leading down under the floor.

You take a step, then another, and soon make it to the bottom of the steps, torches finally coming into view. Looking back, you’re surprised the trip down the stairs was so quick, and pray that it’s just as fast climbing back up.

The stone here is dark, near black. Pools of water edge your path, and you stop, listening one more time.

But there’s still, unnervingly, nothing.

Feeling your heart thumping in your chest you swallow. Trying to stem your anxiety about this whole situation. You look in front of you, an eerie, white glow emerges at the end of the hall way, a raised pedestal placed in front.

Walking down one more set of steps, you come down to the hallway, some fifteen feet wide. Narrow for Asgardian architecture.

In the walls, there are depressions, where strange objects are placed upon simple pedestals. Some hum, there’s one glowing with ancient runes as you walk by, another with a moving green eyeball, following your every move. But that’s not what you’re there for. You know that the tessaract was removed from earth back to Asguard and it is your job to find it and bring it back.

You shudder. Your feet are freezing, and since there seems to be no one here, you slip your shoes back on, nearly at the gilded gate.

Suddenly, your pocket vibrates, it’s that camera phone. You’d been too paranoid to keep it with your luggage, or anywhere else for that matter, so you’ve kept it on your person the entire day. You pause to get the phone out, fishing for it between your breasts, finallu grasping it and flipping it open. The vibrating stops. _There’s no missed call, and it’s not like there’s service in Asgard . . . do they even have phones?_ You shake your head, trying to get distractions out of your brain. As soon as you close it, it vibrates once more, confused, you look at the phone, but again, when opened the vibrating stops. Giving up you place the phone back in your pocket instead of your chest letting it vibrate.

But as you get closer to the end of the hallway, the vibrations intensify, like you’re getting closer to something.

_Wait._

You look around, looking for any sign of the blue cube you were briefly shown.

But before the looming gate lies another pedestal. It’s not quite what you’re looking for. A weird blue box with handles, a little rectangular and much too large, the tessaract looked small enough to hold with one hand. The blue rectangle looks much too heavy for you to even better bother with - but you snap a picture with the camera phone anyways. Before heading to the grated gate you reach out with your fingers – the blue seems to be swirling around within almost like a storm. Your index finger meets the blue rectangle, and the surface is freezing. You nearly shiver as you quickly pull your hand away.

_Maybe it’s a bad idea to touch things down here._

There's a grate in front of a high, high arch. Easily twenty feet high, and behind it another pedestal, and there sits the blue cube. 

_The tesseract._

Or so you think. You pause looking at the foreign object, emitting equally dazzling blue light, remembering the descriptions and images that where shown to you to help you memorize what you were doing.

 _Maybe I shouldn’t do this. There must be someone I can go to on this. Maybe_ Sif _? Maybe the All-Father?_

You sit there, pausing the inevitable. _Would either of them even understand? What if they got the wrong idea?_ You subconsciously begin to twist your fingers. _But as soon as we returned, if the wrong people saw their own in cuffs how long would it take for them to get to my family?_ Interrupting your thoughts, the phone begins to make a consistent beeping noise.

Flipping it open the phone continues to ping with text across the screen flashing 'energy signature recognized'.

Snapping a couple of pictures of the gate and the treasure behind it, you move past the larger blue rectangle pushing your arm through the design looking for a handle or something on the inside.

 _Of course_. You think chewing your lip. _A source of power used by gods and you were expecting a door handle. Idiot._

Placing your now silent phone away in your boobs you whip around, you could have sworn you heard someone, or something breathing. But the hall is still empty. You retract your arm from the gate slowly, pulling yourself up from crouching. Turning to leave, and crunch into the chest of a very tall, armored man.

So tall that your head only comes up to the white and gold inlayed breast plate that he’s wearing.

You stop breathing - _is this a guard? Is everything over?_ You can feel bile rising from your stomach when you look up and lock eyes with Odin himself.

But rather than the booming voice that welcomed you and the rest of the agents to Asgard earlier, a smoother, darker voice spills from his smirk laden mouth.

'Lost are we?'

Remembering to breathe you respond stumbling through the sentences

'Y-yes lost, your majesty,’

You pause, hoping that majesty was the proper term to address him, and praying that your ditsy human girl act was working.

‘I was just about to try to find some help. . .'

The God's eyes flashed from ice blue to deep green as his lips curled somewhere in between a smirk and a snarl. The voice still weirdly different, you start to get the notion that you’re not talking to the same person.

'Help? With this?'

Waving his hand the gate behind you vanishes into a mist. Flinching, you take a step away from him and the gate.

"I've been keeping an eye on you my dear, and I am quite aware that you're not lost. No matter how much of an act you put on.'

The All-father stares at you, sneering as you tremble. But nothing happens. He doesn’t do anything, no call for the guards, not even a notion to search you.

'Are you toying with me?' you utter, voicing your thoughts taking another step back glaring at this presumed royal God.

The God laughs, as Odin's form shivers, breaking down slowly to reveal a man with shoulder length inky black hair dressed in green and gold.

Your flight instinct kicks in and you sprint towards the stairs, praying that the adrenaline will aide your flight in getting the hell out of there.

Echoing behind you can hear him cackling, then calling out

'There's nowhere to go mouse. I will catch you, and besides, who are you going tell about our little predicament?'

It seems as though his voice follows your ascension upwards. Sweat beads your forehead as you grasp that your mission has been compromised. The threats that were placed on your family and friends will become a reality it just depends on how soon – not to mention any hope of earth and Asgard being allies. _What does he mean by ‘our’, why is he impersonating Odin?_

You’ve made it to the mouth of the tunnel. Quickly turning, you catch a breather at the back of the throne. Only to find yourself in the inky darkness. Cursing yourself inwardly at your lack of forsight to grab a torch. Making the best of the situation, you run among the huge black pillars. Stopping at one, you pause straining your ears. Thankfully everything is ever so slightly illuminated just enough to make out silhouettes. Still quite convinced the green laden man is pursuing you. Pausing, you turn to look back the way you came from.

Again, there’s nothing but silence. Sucking in a large amount of air only to expel it slowly, calming yourself down. _He hasn't followed you, calm down, calm down, calm down_. Closing your eyes, and taking another breath - you go to move forward making the executive decision to tell Wuthers that someone is masquerading as Odin - maybe this will save your loved ones skins.

Pushing yourself out of leaning against the pillar, you face forward, with one hand on the pillar, you turn to look back one more time, in an attempt to reassure yourself once more that you're not being followed. You exhale slowly, turning quickly to get back to your room. Closing your eyes, again trying to calm yourself. If you can find the wall, you can find your way to the stairs. Easy. You open your eyes, swiveling towards the direction where the wall lies.

And you smash right into a green and gold leather strapped chest.

'Ah little mouse, you assumed you could evade me so easily?' The black haired man crowed, grabbing your wrists and throwing them up against the pillar behind you, your skull ringing from the impact. You struggle viciously - desperately trying to land a kick somewhere.

He smirks and your legs stop moving, you begin to panic realizing you no longer have control over your own limbs.

'Look at me, mortal.'

he drawls, you can feel your contempt for this, you're so fed up with being tossed around and used by people like a rag doll. All of this building, you spitefully ignore him. Bile yet again building in your throat

'LOOK AT ME.'

He booms, using his free hand to push your face up, as you spit with the last bit of frenzied courage you can muster at his face.

His head jerks to the side, narrowly missing the glob of saliva. You glower at him, and your glare is met with those same striking green eyes that Bill Wuthers had, when you first met him - it seemed like years now. Suddenly the all the pieces connect. You recognize this man, - this god rather, from the news a couple of years ago. Loki. Your eyes grow wide, and your stomach feels as though it’s ripping itself apart. You just tried to spit on the god of mischief. A god that had recently attempted to become the supreme overlord of earth, and currently has the upper hand. You try to swallow the growing lump in your throat but to no avail.

'You'll regret that. And stealing from a god is a rather dull move. Not very bright up there are you?'

He chides, removing his hand from your chin to tap your forehead with his index finger. He tears you from the wall and shoves you to the floor. Landing hard on your right hip, you push yourself up to your elbows in a desperate move to escape once more, only to feel a sudden, then growing pressure in between your shoulders.

'Not leaving so soon are we? Because it seems you have sullied my throne room floor.'

His foot forces you to the ground, and you yelp as your chest smashes into the granite floors. Still frantic to get away, you claw at the granite, trying to find purchase anywhere with your nails. Legs still immobilized you wheeze as he applies more weight to your spine. You can feel your ribs strain, and you stop moving, looking up at the malicious God. He's grinning down at you, a malevolent spark growing in his eyes.

"Clean it, mouse.'

Quickly finding the offending liquid with your eyes, you reach down towards your skirt. Gathering a bit of fabric before you stretch your arm towards the spit on the floor you had so bravely lobbed at him earlier. Reaching forward, you can feel the fabric exposing your upper thigh and a bit of your cheeks. _Why did I have to wear a pencil skirt?_

You are painfully aware of his gaze on your rear as you mop up your saliva.

‘That will do.'

Removing his boot, he reaches down knotting your hair around his fist as he rips you up off of the floor, bringing your head up to his face. The pain makes you scream, you can feel your scalp burning as your hair is nearly pulled out by the roots. He slaps his free hand over your mouth.

'Sleep for now dearest.' the god whispers, as he blows a green mist towards your face. Your vision begins to blur, and dark spots begin to pop up in the corner of your eyes. The green mist has illuminated everything much more, and you can see him smirk as your vision begins to dot. The agony on your scalp slowly dissipates, and you slip into unconsciousness.

\- - -

Suddenly aware of how bright it is, you blink, then shoot up to sitting position uncertain as to what had happened the night before. You reach to the back of your head, wincing once your fingers make contact with your scalp. Squinting, you reach for to do list as light streams from a solitary window on the right wall. _Meeting at 9:30._ You sigh, maybe you just hit your head. You're back in the room you've been given for the trip. Nearly everything is as it was the day before, but you don’t remember getting there. Looking around the small space, you notice your clothes from the previous evening strewn by the door. _Strange_. You begin to disentangle yourself from the blankets, rubbing your eyes, and then shaking your head.

 _That all must have been a dream, I must have had just too much mead at the welcome feast_. Taking your hands from your eyes you let out a small gasp. Your wrists are badly bruised and you suddenly get a grasp that you are very, very nude.

Looking across the room at the chair, your favorite pajamas have remained there from the day before. Still convinced it must have been a dream, and your wrists can only be coincidence, you glance around suspiciously – you have yet to forget the poltergeist when you had first arrived. You grab a lighter blanket from the top of your bed wrapping it around your chest, one hand at your side while the other holding a fistful of the blanket at your chest.

The blanket covers you from your collarbones down to the floor. Cautiously standing up, you start your way over to the mirror being careful not to trip over the excess fabric. Most of it drags behind you on the floor. Lifting some folds just above your waistline, you expose your right hip. Turning to get a better view in the mirror, your eyes widen as you come to the realization that what had happened was no dream.

A large purpling bruise graces your skin, the border bright red. Pressing your fingers to it you wince. You landed really hard on the floor last night, remembering other grievances you drop the blanket over your exposed hip, and turn around. Letting the fabric unfurl to expose your entire backside, there's no bruise but it's a little swollen. Right in between your shoulder blades. With a shiver, you can’t help but wonder where that green laden prat may be at that very moment.

'Maybe we'll think twice before snooping around another's home, eh mouse?'

You whirl around, (e/c) eyes locking with those vibrant greens, you struggle to get the blanket back over you, once again feeling those eyes crawling over your flesh. Stomach churning, you manage to piece together a question.

‘What d-do you want?’

His arm stretches slowly to pick up your pajama shirt from the rickety chair pointedly ignoring your question. Grinning, he cajoles ,

'missing something?'

"h-how did you know where-'

"oh trust me mouse, I keep track of all the vermin currently in my home, couldn't have any of you scurrying around where you don't belong.'

He tosses the article of clothing back on the chair, lazily strolling towards you. You desperately clench at the blanket, taking step back you immediately hit the wall. You frantically try to compress your body as close to the wall as you can. Loki crosses the room, suddenly standing over you – the grin slipping into a smirk.

You draw your head into your shoulders, pulling the blanket up again to cover your chest. You can feel your heart beating in your throat as your breath begins to catch.

"Now, now - this simply won't do.'

He chides grabbing your left arm pushing it forcibly but surprisingly gently away from your chest. Pulling your right away in the same fashion, the fabric that was allowing you some modesty falls to your ankles. You can feel the heat coming off your face as blood rushes to it. You look away from him abhorrent that you're so embarrassed. Loki takes his time eying your form, eyes traveling from your chest, to your navel, and finally to your abdomen. Turning your head away, you cease struggling to make yourself as small as possible. Knees knocking together, your thighs glue themselves together in a line in a final attempt. You didn't want this . . . did you?

'Not struggling this time? Clever girl.'

He coos gently tugging both your hands toward him as he cups your hands in his. You don't bother to watch what he's doing but you flinch as you can feel him apply pressure with his fingers to the deep blue splotches on your wrists.

In a flash, he grabs your chin, you open your eyes, he stares at you showing you his work, lifting your hand by your lower arm to your face.

'Can't have you run back to your superior's with these now can we.'

The bruises are gone.

Releasing your jaw, he yanks you towards him – hand still wrapped around your arm, you stumble on the blanket, tripping into his chest.

'Clumsy little thing'

You hear him mutter, as he claws at your back. He peers over your shoulder, pausing to trace your spine with his finger tips down to your cheeks. He grabs the right one, digging his nails into you.

'Ah!'

You yelp as your back arches. Wedging a hand in between yourself and his chest, in a futile attempt to push yourself away one more time. He quickly tears your arm from his sternum, pushing you from your lower back against him again. The leather and metal adornments cold against your skin as he lowers his mouth to your ear.

"Now we will continue this, as taunting you has become quite the past time, but I believe for now, you're late.'

He whispers exhaling, warm breath curling around your neck, suddenly releasing you. Within seconds he simply vanishes.

You sink to the floor, utterly appalled with yourself that you have to take a moment before you stand back up – _why didn’t I do anything? Would it have mattered?_ You place the palm of your hand against your forehead. Reaching for yesterday’s clothes, you manage to find the small camera phone.

 _The battery must be damn good on this thing_.

You surmise, as the screen is still glowing. He was right though, you’ve missed breakfast, and are half an hour late to a meeting you’re supposed to assist with.

Struggling to your feet, you don’t bother with the blanket. Tearing through the chest, you pull on some clothes, when you notice as you stretch stockings over you r thighs, that the huge bruise on your hip has disappeared. You spin around in the mirror for a second, confused. But it’s simply no longer there. Your skin is the same as it was before. Pulling your hair up into a sloppy bun and praying that no one will notice your tardiness, you break into a sprint as you careen out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

You manage to make it to the end of the first meeting, brushing off your lateness as getting lost in the enormous palace. The day continues without further incident.

The next few days continue as planned, according to your schedule. You wait hand and foot on these people, running around grabbing coffee – which the asgardians don’t quite understand, so you manage to bring back an alternative weird tea that you assume is caffeinated because no one complains.

Besides the odd complaint about paper work and your tardiness, you consistently manage to organize, hand out, and write some paperwork, memos and the like, taking notes when you need to. Even Smith and Wuthers hadn’t harassed you.

While doing all of this, you watch anyone that crosses your path, praying that your guts have better instincts on people than they do on job opportunities.

You grasp a mug of warm tea listening to someone drone on, and on about weapon dependency, and possible threats to earth.

‘. . . And let us not forget that one of us will be staying here for an undisclosed amount of time. Which will be decided tomorrow.’

 _Lest we forget._ You groan internally. One more day and you can go home. _No more sitting up in the middle of the night at every creak and foot steps down the hallway. No more turning around in case someone’s following you. No more, no more, no more._ You run a hand through your hair on top of your head. _So close._ Grabbing your mug you take a long swig staring at the ridiculously ornate ceiling, recognizing a few of the Nordic symbols from an Art History course you took for a credit.

The stuff the old Nords had made, were a bad copy, if anything to what was inlaid in the ceiling here.

Finally, and blessedly so, the final meeting comes to a close, bartering between what to prepare for and what to avoid ending on preparing to aid your supervisors.

You make your way down the long hall, wrenching your door open with a quick tug. Slipping inside you lean back, the door closing with a click.

You lock the door, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the ground. Slumping forward, your eyes meet your own reflection in the mirror, and with a huff, you blow some strands of hair out of your eyes. Pulling the mirror open with a slight tug you step into the huge bathroom, unbuttoning your pants, you lose your bra, pants and socks as you make your way to the mirror, clothes lumped in a trail behind you.

You grab your brush, working it through your hair as you lean down to inspect the strange contraption over the large basin. What you initially thought to be taps, turnedout to be a mess of piping that you struggle to follow with your eyes.

_I’ll worry about that in a moment._

You catch yourself in the mirror, slapping your butt. You do a little wiggle, wishing you had speakers and some of your favorite jams to chill out too. You settle for humming to yourself, going off and singing your favorite lyrics from the song every once in a while.

You managed to get the water flowing, it spills out of multiple taps lining the tub. _Wonder how their piping works._ You shrug, _as long as it’s not too closely connected to the sewage of this place._ Filling up the tub in a matter of minutes, you grab your shower stuff you brought with you, slipping out of your panties and climbing into the tub, relishing in the warm water. You wash your hair and the rest of your body, closing your eyes in pure bliss, just enjoying the warmth.

You soak in the tub for an extended amount of time, much longer than usual, deciding to leave the water only when it’s room temperature.

Grabbing a towel from the other side of the tub, you release the drain standing up. The steam clogs your visibility you can hardly see the rest of the room. The water begins to siphon down the drain, the odd gurgling noise emerging every once in a while. Toweling off, you wrap your hair in the towel, turning around to grab your clothes. Only they’re not there. Eyebrows knitting together in confusion, you step out of the tub, opening the mirror door to clear some of the steam. The bathroom becomes clearer, but there’s nothing but a marble floor. Your clothes have all but disappeared. The only thing remaining on the ground is the camera phone, which you snatch up immediately.

‘UMMMM.’

You can’t help but squawk out loud. They’re gone, they’re simply not in the bathroom. You remove the towel from your head, wrapping it around your body. _Not that it did any good last time._ Rolling your eyes, you head out of the restroom. Desperately peering around your quarters. _Aaaannnnnd, no suitcase, and oh goody the chest is empty too._

The spiteful, sarcastic words bounce around your skull. You can’t help but grind your teeth in equal amounts of distaste and distress – looking at the phone you only have thirty minutes before someone comes to collect you. Giving up the search, and indulging in some slight insanity, you call out,

‘If anyone’s here I need my goddamn clothes back I’m supposed to be at the last meal here in thirty minutes and I can’t wear a TOWL.’

Laughter emerges from behind the mirror and you whip around crashing back into the bathroom. You glance around from the doorframe. Stepping in and checking behind the screen, there’s no one. You look up the to ceiling groaning. _Why._ Knocking from the door hits your ear drums.

‘(y/n)? We’re waiting on you to head to the banquet hall – are you ready?’

It’s Wuthers, you can hear the disdain peeling through his voice.

_They said it was in HALF AN HOUR._

Internally screaming you squeak out a response,

‘I-in a moment!’

You head back to your room hoping that your suitcase has magically returned to your chest. _Nooope. Still missing_. Unsure that he heard you from the bathroom, you call out,

‘I can’t find . . . anything to wear?’

You conclude indecisively turning to face the door as you speak praying that you’ve given yourself another ten minutes. Wuthers sighs.

‘Must you _always_ be so unprepared for scheduled events? Your incompetence is insufferable. We are supposed to attend _together_ as a _group_. Seeing as this is the last evening meal for nearly all of us.’

Clenching your teeth you go to look under your bed, getting on your hands and knees giving up on the fact that your towel hardly covers your ass. There’s nothing under there either.

Another wrap comes from the door.

‘Intern I’m giving you _ten_ seconds.’

‘Sorry! Just a second!!’

You run to the bathroom, heart thumping as you’re close to panicking – your old clothes are still missing. You step back out glancing around - _still_ nothing – not even a sock.

‘Two, one!’

The door busts open, _glad the lock works so well,_ Wuthers walks in scowling.

‘Look I’m sorry, I just couldn’t find –‘

You motion to where your suitcase was within the chest, and it’s there. All of your clothes are neatly folded and organized in order of the color wheel when they had been a complete mess before hand.

‘- my clothes.’

You finish, wincing as your fingers curl up, and you withdraw your arm back to your chest. Looking back to Wuthers, whose face is colored an unsavory shade purple.

‘Please stop making _idiotic_ excuses and wasting my time. I expect you to be _dressed_ and ready within FIVE _MINUTES_.’

You’re dressed in one, and out the door joining the group of your muttering coworkers who could hardly believe that you are apart of S.H.I.E.L.D. _As soon as I get home I’m quitting and moving as far away as possible. I have no time for this trickster or hydra garbage._ Chewing your lip you follow them numbly scowling at the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a little short - I need to rework the next ~scene~ I think. Anyways, lemme know what you guys think! I love love loooove getting feedback! and Comments~  
> Also if you guys prefer shorter or longer chapters gimme a heads up! Thanks C:


	5. Chapter 5

After attending the feast for nearly an hour, the crowd is obnoxiously loud and inebriated as ever. Loki sighs as he watches people nearly fall on top of one another - the mead sloshing to the floor. _The amount of ale that the floor drinks is indescribable. The Midgardians are clearly still incapable of holding their own. Even after a week of drinking the stuff._ Walking around he peers down each table seeking out his toy. 

She wasn't even eating, let alone drinking. Maybe she had realized that he had thwarted her meager little Midgardian device. He can’t help but grin. Skulking back to his royal puppet, he decided to wait. Patience was, when it came to these things, a virtue he surprisingly possessed. 

-

Dinner is spectacular and over the top as always, but you can’t help but roll things around with your fork.

The bench that your sitting on bends downwards to your left and a large flagon of ale crashes next to you. You hardly take notice, almost everyone is drunk, if not more so exuberant because many have made friends with the locals while you’ve been avoiding the general public scrounging around in the dark to do Hydra’s dirty work or fetching the rest coffee. Looking around you prop your head up with your hand, other clutching your fork. Jealousy, sadness, and regret pang through you. This trip could have been amazing. You hadn’t even had time to talk to anyone from here. _Well, that’s not entirely true. Granted I didn’t get much choice in those conversations._ You close your eyes, resting them briefly. The limited amount of sleep you had sporadically gained was wearing thin tonight. That long bath was the only thing that had really given you some relaxing time and staying in the tub for more than fifteen minutes had turned out to be a mistake. Suddenly most of the flagon’s contents spill onto your plate as the company to your left belches loudly in your ear. The already existing frown on your face deepens as you set your fork down, sitting up straight as a board. Looking out of your peripheral view, it’s Smith. Seeming to be a little more than slightly intoxicated. He blows the flatulence into your face, and you turn your head slightly to glare at him

‘Miss . . . (y/n).’

He slurs,

‘Have you even, managed, to find _Anything?_ Anything . . . at all?’

‘Yes, yes I have!’

You hiss indignantly, trying to keep your voice down. Pulling out the Camera phone from your chest you open up the pictures. Smith rests his head on your shoulder – peering at the screen.

‘Why not show us your success sooner?’

He asks with sudden clarity.

“I’ve – I’ve been distracted.’

You try to shrug him off but he just wraps an arm around your shoulder, pinning you to his boney frame.

You take a deep breath, exasperated. You pull up the photos, the green eye, the weird thing covered in runes, the humming one, the large freezing blue rectangle, and then a picture of the ceiling, then a bannister. The pictures go on until it’s quite clear that they’re of random bits of the architecture and furniture within the castle. Mainly, repetitive images of the same bannister.

‘So you managed to take pictures, of everything, . . . _but_ the tesseract. You’re not a very good finder huh?’

He grinds his chin into your shoulder to your displeasure – but you’re so in shock you don’t notice.

‘These aren’t the pictures I took.’

You whisper, still flipping through the photos. You then nearly shout,

‘NO, they _were_ there –‘ catching yourself as you tone it down to a harsh whisper.

‘I saw the damn glow cube –‘

‘Of _cooourse_ you did.’

He belches again, taking another gulp. You stash your phone away once more – suddenly wary that you two are not the only ones in the room.

‘Shame you’re not . . . useful.’

He swishes his beer in his free hand taking a long drink as you lift his arm off of your shoulders and over the table. Hoping to place it down gently onto the table top, it drops into your food, but he doesn’t even notice. He finishes his drink and turns to face you, looking slightly disappointed. He mumbles quietly, enough that you wouldn’t have heard him had you not been paying attention.

‘ . . . You’ll just be another loose end to tie up when we get back.’

At that you freeze. _I’m a loose end._ Smith swings himself off the bench, wobbling towards a server to grab another tankard of ale. Sitting there frozen you feel as though your throat has been ripped out. There’s not a lump, but physical pain. You stand up, wishing to spare everyone from your panic, and head towards the bannister in a rush. You feel like vomiting even though there’s nothing in your stomach. The railing overlooks the expansive throne room, and you grasp it for support. _They’re planning on killing me after this._ You can feel the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. _It wouldn’t have mattered if I found the cube they will kill me anyways – why would they kill my entire family to silence me when they could just make my death look like an accident?_ You bite your lower lip hard to avoid the tears spilling from your eyes _How could I have been so stupi-_

You struggle to breathe, beginning to hiccup, attempting to take deep breaths to calm yourself. _The phone. It’s_ got _to have the pictures of the tesseract on it somewhere._

You pull it from your blouse, snapping it open. The photos are still on screen. You rest your elbows on the railing two hands clutching the phone as you desperately search through the photos – which are nearly all the same picture until something catches your eye.

Your hand falls over your mouth and you lean on the railing with your elbows for support. What’s on the screen has thrown your mind for a spin.

The photo displayed on the screen is you.

From what you can tell, you’re gripping the bannister, most of your weight distributed to your hands, eyes rolled back, mouth agape mid moan. And from what you can see, you’re completely naked.

You stare transfixed as another image flashes by, where you’ve slightly changed position but as far as you can tell you’re still moaning. Pictures begin to pop up, and flick by faster, and faster, until you’re watching yourself being fucked mercilessly.

The way the camera is angled you cannot see who your partner is, but you have a sneaking suspicion.

In the video – which has blessedly been silent so far – you move until your chest is leaning on the railing. The camera view is from the side, showing your head and torso, your hands white with strain as they clasp the rail, tits bumping into the polished marble. A strong, pale hand grasps your breast, and it is then your suspicions are confirmed. Chastising yourself mentally you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to ignore your evident arousal dripping into your panties. You’re both amazed and appalled that your emotions can flip flop so easily.

The god kisses his way up your spine, biting the side of your neck. His free hand gripping your lower thigh as he guides one of your legs up to the railing, causing you to balance on a single foot as he plunges into you. He looks directly at the camera, and _winks_.

Immediately the sound turns on at full blast, your moans echo through the terrace. In a mad scramble you push the power button down.

“Lok-“

You turn off the phone just as you start to call his name.

You don’t dare to turn around. Even with all of the banter and clattering behind you, you’re nearly positive that everyone has heard your phone.

You grasp the phone tightly, trying to mentally will yourself to find some kind of inner strength to stand up and turn around and pretend that the phone incident and your near break down had not occurred. When someone’s hand falls onto your shoulder. You immediately flinch, expecting it to be Smith, even worse off from when you last saw him.

‘Ah ah ah mouse, no need to be so flighty.’

bending over you, his breath cascades down your head. He inhales deeply just above your hair. He chuckles over your neck as his fingers drag along your spine, slowly moving down to the start of your skirt.

You don’t need to look to know who is standing next to you.

Elbows on the railing you try to turn around to face him, but you’re stuck. Limbs once again useless except for holding you up.

You exhale slowly, in an attempt to calm yourself.

‘Now really isn’t ideal.’

You mutter, attempting to figure out what body parts you _can_ move. His other hand pinches at your bra clasp, getting it in one go. _Do they have bras up here? How did he-_

‘Really? Shame that you don’t have a say in the matter.’

Loki purrs, interrupting your thoughts as his finger trails up in between your shoulder blades then to your neck. You involuntarily shiver, as you feel his breath on the dome of your skull.

His hand trails around your neck, slowly tracing your collarbone down to your sternum. Fingers slowly begin to pop the buttons off one at a time, clattering as they fall to the floor. Your body tenses up as you feel him lean over you. His chest applying pressure to your middle, black hair brushes your neck as his teeth nip at the soft flesh connecting your shoulder to your spine. The last button bounces across the polished marble as his fingers slip under your bra.

‘Y-you’re not going to make me walk back like this right?’

You voice your abruptly realized fear and Loki pauses, and you can feel him grinning on your neck, and rather than answer, his claw-like fingers dig into your ass. Bringing his hand down swiftly on your cheeks, you can’t help but whimper. Your shirt dangling limply from your torso, you can feel your knees buckle from the force of his slap, his hand now wandering to your thigh as those long fingers creep under your skirt, moving it up and over until it sits on your lower back. Reaching under your bra he pulls at your nipple, his touch drawing a moan from your lips. It’s the cue Loki has been waiting for.

One hand kneads one of your breasts as the other in one motion tears your stockings and underwear down to your knees. Your knees knock together, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in anticipation as your brows connect. Your breath quickens.

Fingers tracing your lips, he whispers next to your ear,

‘I know you yearn for me. I have been your personal phantom for quite some time, yet you have never once demanded that I take my leave. Even though you were quite aware of who was accompanying you. You’re much more intelligent than what the others believe. The droll damsel in distress act is quite boring – aren’t you tired of it?’

You look down to the ground, face flushed with blood. Unable to give him a response he only laughs as he slips one, two fingers inside of you.

Your head snaps up and you let out a groan, as he begins to pummel his fingers into you. Releasing your breast his fingers trace your side, ending at your ass. You can feel pressure building as your knees begin to shake. Fingers still inside of you going at a slow rhythm he slaps your ass hard, grabbing it and pulling your flesh.

You pull back your shoulders straining your back as his fingers continually brush your most sensitive inner workings. Feeling the pressure build in your stomach from the constant teasing you shudder. Juice dripping down your thighs you jump, and twitch as your orgasm cums unexpectedly early.

Panting you rest the side of your face against the bannister, out of breath and suddenly very, very tired.

With exaggerated effort you pull yourself up, taking a moment to readjust your tights and skirt. Making sure that everything is in place and that you have complete control over yourself once more. Hoping you don’t fall from the last of your orgasms’ throws, you revel in the fact that you are able to move. Whipping around using the last bit of energy you have, your hand latches onto the leather of Loki’s outer coat.

Eyes wide, he seems caught off guard, regaining his composure quickly, he watches you coolly as his eyes narrow. His hand wraps around your wrist, and he chides,

‘Tired of being the damsel in distress?’

Releasing your wrist, you seize your chance to get your point across.

‘Maybe, just maybe, I am exhausted by being _continuously_ distressed _all_ the time. _You are not helping.’_

-

The sudden spurt of emotion surprises him. Loki was about to remove himself from her sight. _Invisibility unfortunately only works when the victim doesn’t cling to your clothes._

‘I’m probably going to be slaughtered like some rabbit as soon as I get back to earth because you messed with this!’

She yanks the contraption out of her breasts waving it much too close for comfort to his face, nearly smacking him in the nose.

‘ _You. Need. To. Fix. This.’_

She jabbed into his chest with her index finger with every word, camera still grasped in between her other fingers. Glaring at him it appeared that there was no way he could simply leave.

‘And, if I _do_ , decide to fix your simple Midgard contraption? Restore ah, certain, hm, images?’

He feigns ignorance. Her eyes brows knit together, clearly not expecting that response.

‘You’ll . . . carry on living with a clear conscience. And remain on the overly, obnoxious, golden couch down there.’

She gestures with her thumb pointing behind her down at the throne.

-

'You see mouse, that seems a rather poor bargain for me.'

He taps your lips, staring into your eyes as those long spidery fingers slide along your jawline.  His mischievous, crooked smile making a reappearance. 

'What, no consolation prize?' 

You whisper, allowing yourself to get lost in those brilliant greens your grip loosens on his leather over coat, leather eventually slipping away. 

He smiles at you, and his form starts to shimmer, cursing you reach for his coat - attempting to deny him his leave. He only laughs as you grasp nothing but air. 

'See you on the morrow small one.'

You feel his lips grazing your forehead, and then nothing. He's gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was already written, hence the fast update - just wanted to go over somethings. Hope y'all enjoyed it! C;  
> ** and Please, please let me know if there's something that doesn't make sense, or a plot hole. Or something. Sometimes whilst connecting the dots I forget about other things (even though I try to keep 'em strait)


	6. Chapter 6

(f/n) - first name

(l/n) - last name

 

You awoke, yawning under the furs. Your internal clock waking you up around seven am, you stretch out your arms reaching towards the ceiling. You felt soreness between your thighs, and your face flushes remembering what had occurred the previous evening. You could walk, but your loins ached with every step.

You roll towards the edge of your bed, wincing as you stand up. _Yeeep, sitting down is going to hurt._ Slipping out of your pajamas you head to throw them into the trunk. You pick through your suitcase eking out the last of your clean professional clothes. Frowning, you dig around a little more. Everything else is wrinkled or sweaty or drenched in some areas with _other_ fluids. You make a face when you realize how much laundry you have to do when you get home.  _Including all the clothes I didn’t get to before I left._

Dressing yourself in whatever smells clean, and looks decent, you take extra care on your morning routine to look your best. You’d get an earful for not conforming to their expectations, and you wanted this day to go as smoothly as possible.

-

The morning meal consists of bizarrely medieval foods, poached eggs, smoked meats, black breads, and bizarre array of cheeses. Where as all you wanted was _actual_ coffee, and a donut. As you walked in you could have sworn an entire pig was leaving the room again. _Where does it all even go after we don't finish-_

'Not my problem.' 

You mutter, _but whichever agent they choose to stay can figure that out._ You made a mental note to slip that in when you congratulate them later. Pushing yourself up from the table, stepping out from the bench you wander back to your room taking a piece of bread back with you. _I have to eat._ Reminding yourself that no matter how you felt, you needed _something_ to keep you going. You still had forty-five minutes until the harvest. 

You catch a glimpse of Wuthers entering a room about five doors down from you. You pause, and then look around. The hallway is empty, _coast’s clear_. You pull out the flip phone, staring at it, trying to use whatever mental energy you may have possessed to get your pictures back. Your knuckles grow white with the strain eyelids smashed together, and your brow knit together in concern. _Please, please, PLEASE_ you mouth, begging, to God, the Gods, _to Loki_? You didn't know anymore and you didn't particularly care. You just wanted to go home and to be alive by this time next week. Eyes flitting open, your mouth now a thin line, you open the phone and go straight to photos. You start flicking through them, and they're blessedly _there_. The images of the tesseract that had eluded you are _all_ there. Bursting into a smile you kiss the screen, grinning from ear to ear. _Thank you_. 

In a few seconds you reach the door that you saw Wuthers disappear into, you rap at the door sharply, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible. 

You shift your weight anxiously from foot to foot, listening to the foot falls and bumps going on behind the door. Your arms folded behind your back, the phone still clenched in your hand.

With a click, the door recedes inwards slightly, and Wuthers peers out. 

'Can I help you?'

He asks point blank looking a little more than disgruntled as he eyes you suspiciously. 

Saying nothing you simply wave the small phone in front of his face, flipping it open with a flick of your wrist, exposing the inner screen. 

The door widens and his arm snakes out. He immediately grabs the phone from you, eyes wide, mouth falling open in shock, he mutters to himself, 

'It exists. It's still here.' 

'You're welcome!'

You chime in, quite pleased with yourself and feeling more chipper than you ever had this entire week. Ignoring his awed expression, you can’t help but feel things are finally turning around and headed back to normalcy. Hopefully.

'You may be useful after all.' 

He mutters nearly inaudible, but you interrupt his train of thought venomously,

'I have _always_ been useful. And this was the end of our bargain. Once we get back I am quitting and moving as far away as I possibly can.'

His eyes have yet to leave the phone, the round man seems to be entranced by the images. 

Frustrated you continue, 'Are you even listening? I have nothing, absolutely _NOTHING_ to offer your organization past this point in time. You _must_ release me from this contract that I was forced to be apart of.'

Instead of acknowledging what you've said, he closes the door in your face, taking the phone and the leverage you once held over him. Exhaustion, exasperation, and Anger kick in all at once and you slam into the door with your fists about to scream when you hear a door beginning to creak open twenty feet from you. You spin around not wanting to attract attention, but angry enough to stomp away to your own room.

You were furious, but more so with yourself rather than Wuthers.  _Why did I think that was a good idea. Just to_ hand _it over to him. Stupid, stupid. STUPID._ Slipping into your room, you berate yourself nearly slamming your head into the wall.

Lugging your suitcase out from under the bed, you didn’t remember how it got there, but no matter, you started to scrounge around the room. Looking for missing socks, panties and the like when you here chattering and shuffling feet outside your door.

 _Guess it’s time._ You stand up, brushing off the dust from your knees. Looking around you sigh, _I’ll get back to this after. I’m sure we won’t be leaving immediately._ Stepping out into the hallway you join the gabbing throng of excited SHIELD agents. Notebook and pen held tightly in your hand. Following the same path you took when you arrived, you stand, once more, in the throne room, relieved that it will be your last.

The King lounges on the throne, gazing at the thrall, until his eyes meet yours, momentarily. A smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, he relinquishes his gaze, gesturing to one of the guards.

You set about getting to a blank page, pen at the ready as Smith steps foreword. He bends ever so slightly, a halfhearted bow.

‘Odin, it has been an immense pleasure to have been so lavishly attended to whilst staying in your quarters. SHEILD cannot thank you enough for giving us a peek as to what occurs on our neighboring worlds.’

His face forms into a disgusting smile, which convinces everyone but you that he’s being sincere. Glancing around, Sif purses her lips unconvinced as well. With the small talk over, you can feel the tension in the room, as everyone’s breathing slows to a stop.

The All father slowly sits up, gazing at the crowd beneath him. His eyes pausing on every individual, when his eyes flick towards you, you glance away. Embarrassment flooding to your cheeks, you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

‘I have reached a decision on who will remain here, while the rest of you return to Midgard.’

He pauses deliberately letting the whole room wait a few seconds longer, you’re hardly paying attention. _Man do I need to clip my toenails when I get back_.

‘(f/n)(l/n), will remain here as SHIELD’s envoy.’

Up until that point you had stared at your feet, you slowly raise your head,

‘M-me?'

You manage to stutter as his voice echoes throughout the hall. Your coworkers have all but craned their necks to look at you. The hall was so silent you could hear your pen drop from your hands to the floor. You clutch your notepad to your chest. Completely forgetting why you had brought it.

You hadn't foreseen this in the least – _I couldn’t have been the only one he was toying with_ , _could I?_ You swallow hard, when someone blessedly speaks up. 

'Your majesty, surely you jest. This girl is hardly the champion we seek in order to properly represent SHIELD, the whole of Midgard even.'

It's Sif who looks just as confused as the rest of your coworkers. 

'I must disagree. You see, it is the younger generation that will bring new ideas, and a whole new perspective to the incoming situations. I trust that the guild SHIELD has chosen their members wisely, and would put faith in any member that they brought with them.' 

Mutterings erupt around you and your coworkers shuffle their feet some of them scowling while others were nodding.

 _No. No this can't be happening_.

Your notebook bends against your chest your throat is becoming more and more painful. Your nails dig into your arms, but you don't notice the pain. You can't break your eyes away from the king on his throne. 

‘This is what my demands were at the beginning, and they will be fulfilled if there is to be an alliance between Asgard and Midgaurd.’

Smith, breaks out into a creepily, genuine smile.

‘It is unconventional, and unexpected. But it is agreed. We trust that she will serve amiably.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cranked this out ~ short and sweet. Don't worry more ~fun~ times will be coming i promise. also am i dragging this out for waaay too long? i feel as though i am.


	7. Chapter 7

The decision has been made, and SHIELD disperses to collect their belongings. Since you have been chosen to remain, your quarters will change. Sent to gather your belongings, you wander down the hall, avoiding your coworkers’ stares as you look at the ground in a haze. Some give you a congratulatory pat on the back,  stopping you every once in a while for a word of encouragement or praise that you’ve been given such a huge responsibility. Numbly nodding and uttering ‘thank you’ like a well greased machine, your door thankfully appears. You weakly use both hands to push your door open. You continue to stare at your feet, unable to accept what had just occurred.  Glancing up, you had just walked in the room and Suit or Charles now, was sitting on the rickety chair. Smith stares at you intently as the door clicks shut behind you.  

'This has worked out rather well, hasn't it?'

You swallow hard, refusing to move even a millimeter closer to him. 

'Did... Did you plan this? Was I picked from the beginning?'

You manage to state rather calmly, still in shock. He shrugs,

'Those pictures you managed to get to us this morning have only secured our plans.'

 Smith states, ignoring your question. Wuthers steps through the mirror glancing over at you as he fixes his tie.

'Good you're here. Since you'll be staying you will also act as Hydra's envoy - when you return to earth once every month you will be reporting to us as well as SHEILD. You will continue to canvas Asgaurd for the easiest way in as well as a clear path to get to the tesseract by the time you return. Three weeks should be more than enough time here.'

The words bounce off your skull, you can hardly pay attention _._  You could tell however that they were instructing you to essentially pick up where you left off.  _Blah blah blah, not even giving time for the news to settle. How considerate._  you think spitefully.

-

'Mmm I tend to disagree.'

The two Midgardians whip around, flabbergasted to see him standing in the corner. The girl looking as though she was about to unload her stomach onto the floor at any moment, her face slowly losing all color when her (e/c) eyes meet his own. With a glance, Loki seals the door - averting outsiders from coming in and not allowing even a whisper to escape these walls. The bony one started to gibber,

'You're supposed to be -'

'Dead? Funny, if I recall a God is usually what one of _your_ stature would call Immortal?'

Loki drawled, voice oozing with boredom.  _Must I always explain every detail to these creatures in order for them to comprehend anything?_

'But the London invasion - Thor gave a confidential statement that you had died while securing the ether!'

Wuthers spluttered, confused eyes bulging from their sockets. Loki's face wrinkled in disgust, 

"Enough blathering about  _that_ Oaf. Clearly whatever intelligence you received was notas informative nor as educated as you had hoped. And if the two of you know it, I doubt it's 'confidential'."

He sighs seemingly exasperated at their own ignorance. Pausing as though reconsidering his choice to reveal himself.

'It seems, as though your poorly named Grecian organization and I would have something in common.' 

-

At that statement your flight instinct had kicked in. Suitcases clunk and others chatter outside your door preparing to return home. Grinding your teeth, it's agonizing how close help is. Leaning against the door, with both hands behind your back you try the handle, twisting it furiously to no avail. 

'No point in that, small one. None of you are leaving this room until we have reached a conclusion.' 

He states, staring at you, a small, amused smile curling his lips. Releasing it you decide to focus on your breathing, since that seemed to be the only thing that you could control at this time. His gaze resumes upon the two slack jawed Hydra members.

'You see, I am currently in possession of an object that you desperately require. But it seems to me that all of your talent was wasted on that attempt to take over SHIELD.' 

He states, sounding bored yet disappointed. Loki glances over at you, almost as though he was checking up on your well being. You give him your best scowl.  He continues returning his green gaze to the other two.

'We hold similar beliefs, that Midguard cannot be trusted with its own freedom. I am more than capable of ensuring humanity’s safety under my rule. If you manage to gather Hydra’s remaining meager forces and prove that your falsely named organization is still capable of causing  _some_ havoc, I will personally gift the tesseract to you. For you to clear the way for another, more prepared, individual such as myself. Think of this as simply as, an investment for your company.' 

Loki finishes, a smirk beginning to form, he looked  _more_  than pleased with himself.

'How can we trust you on that? Even with an Alien army you still failed to-' 

Wuthers sputters, halting as he realizes his mistake. Loki's amused gaze becomes clouded with anger. Sweat beads the two traitor's foreheads - it was doubtful that they had ever dealt with anything above a pissy common criminal, let alone a full blown angered God.  _Cowards._  you glare at them bitterly. 

'Your immature plans would have come to light the second you spoke of it - if I had neglected to cloak any of you, Heimdall would have gotten wind of this, and I would be forced to do more than just play as Odin. Not to mention it took only  _two_  Avengers to take down all the forces that you were able to muster.. While they  _barely_  defeated me last time, with the help of  _your_  weaponry I recall.'

Loki hisses, bristling at the notion that he would fail again or that hydra even came close to his power or influence. You didn't particularly care. Hundreds people had been killed, maimed, losing their loved ones, or their homes due to both of their nefarious scheming. You look over to Wuthers and Smith.  _What was his deal anyways? Wasn't he already ruling over Asgard?_  The two Hydra members stared at him numbly - you were positive the cogs in their brains had ceased moving. 

Abruptly both of their eyes turned a fiery green - your stomach churned at the sight. You shuddered as you realize why his eyes are so familiar. Loki had been spying on you, and SHIELD for a very long time. Perhaps even longer than you were aware.

The green fades and the two begin to move robotically about the room picking up your belongings and shoving them into your bag. Loki watches with undisclosed glee. You can’t help but shiver.  _That could be me._

'Someone had to do it, and besides, your time can be used on more . . .  _desirable_  activities.' 

You nearly jump out of your skin as those words cascade breathily down your neck. Hands encircle your waste, and you can feel his cool skin next to yours. His chin nestling into your neck. He pulls you into his body as the other stares at you from across the room, his hands go up and under your shirt tracing patterns unknown to you upon your stomach. He chuckles as goose bumps erupt across your flesh, and your breathing begins to come in short, panicked, rasps. He slowly kisses your neck and you let out a small moan as he rumbles in approval. Hands going further, he slips under your bra clenching your tender flesh with warm hands. He nips your ear, greedily returning to your neck where he bites down hard. You moan as his teeth leave sensitive flesh with broken blood vessels underneath. His mouth breaks away from your neck and his hands slowly, delicately, lift your shirt and bra over your head. You comply eagerly, your brain clouding with a primal need as your arms go up, your garments are heaved over your head to be thrown to the floor where Smith picks them up, immediately folding, then cramming the clothes into your bag. 

You turn around at this point, cupping that glorious face with your hands. You’re unable to contain yourself anymore and kiss him hard pulling at his lips with your teeth. You can feel him grin as his nails drag across your bare back as he complies to your needs, his tongue pushing back against yours as it explores your palette. 

- 

Breaking away from her mouth, she moans again and her delectable voice rings out as the other two fools finish their task. Standing vacantly in the middle of the room, they slowly get on all fours, their arms stretched out in front of them. Bowing to their merciful god. Looking back to her, he smiles 

'Feisty today aren't we?'

She pulls weakly at his chest, trying to remove his breast plate with dainty fingers, her breath coming in small gasps. She clearly has no idea how to remove armor. 

Loki can't help but smile, oh, she was right where he wanted her. Under his thumb without any magic at all.  _Mortals are terribly easy to please, but oh so fragile._

Easily lifting her up by her hips, she wrapped her legs around his waist and he kisses her again. Roughly exploring that sweet little mouth with his tongue. She responds just as eagerly, if not more so. Her hands grip his shoulders to steady herself as she responds to his prodding. 

Holding her lower back he abandons her mouth, leaving a trail of kisses along her jawline working down to her neck, chewing and pulling at her flesh, ensuring a trail of possessive bruises. She starts to mewl, her head lolling back exposing her throat, which he greedily indulges in, leaving a large purple bruise directly over her voice box. She shudders, and he releases her flesh, clenching her ass with his hands. Her abdomen grinds against his own, and he can barely contain himself from ripping off the rest of her clothing and taking her on the spot.  _If you have waited all week, you can wait an hour more._ Inhaling deeply, Loki manages to calm himself even though the girl has lost all of her self control. He slowly slides his hands over to her unprotected back, sinking his finger tips into her exposed skin, scratching her as she slips to the ground, nearly crumpling at his feet with another gasp. She murmurs a shrill complaint, laced with want. 

‘Don’t fret,’

Loki whispers, as she whimpers longingly, her hands lacing around the back of his neck once more.

‘This will be continued, but the snakes here must be dealt with.’ 

Her eyes are glazed over, but she nods. Her hands slowly slink back to his chest. Accepting this notion of comprehension, he wraps his arm around her back, pinning her to his chest.

Snapping his fingers, the two idiots kneeling on the ground regain their consciousness. With that, the girl immediately increases in temperature, she squirms against him as though trying to shrink, burying her now hot face into his breast plate.  _So now we choose to be aware of our surroundings._ He chuckles darkly.

-

 From what you can see, turning your neck as far as you can without snapping it, Smith and Wuthers shakily stand, stumbling slightly as they regain their balance, Smith holds on to the chair with his hand in order to stay upright, while Wuthers clutches his knees, still leaning over. They seemed to be displaying symptoms of intense vertigo.

‘Seeing as the two of you are so easy to toy with, we can do this where, you agree to my terms, or you are controlled from a far to do my bidding. I also, demand that my scepter is returned to me.’

They both slowly regain their composure, eyes boring into your exposed back, to settle on your captor.

‘She stays here. Never to return until I tire of her presence.’

“S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t stand for that.’ 

Wuthers interrupts weakly. You feel a woosh of air, and a perfectly composed copy of yourself appears to your left looking as you were a few minutes ago. Work clothes, notebook, and pen in hand. 

‘Please. As though I wasn’t already aware. I’m sure this will suffice when she  _must_  make an appearance to your measly realm. Trust me when I say the lot of you are quite easy to fool when it comes to recreating humans through illusion.’

The figure fades into nothing, and you feel soft cotton enveloping your torso, his grip loosens, then releases you. You step to the right, arms folded over your chest, the loose fabric soft, but foreign to you. Gritting your teeth you want nothing more than to be out of this room. You feel beyond embarrassed and loath that you lost control of yourself with him. 

'Neglect my commands, and there will be no tesseract to look forward to, but trust when I saw that will be the least of your worries.' With a wave of his hand, your bag disappears, and your shirt is once again covering your torso, though your bra is still missing. 

 

'Now that we've reached a decision, the two of you will join your fellows, and  _you_ ,'

His fingers brushed your arm, sending a rush of electricity to shoot down into your core. You swallow hard.

'Will say good bye, and return to your new quarters. Which should be more than satisfactory.' 

- 

He vanished shortly after that. Saying good bye was easy, you hadn't the time nor the wish to get to know any of these people. With a final wave at the airships you headed back down towards the bridge, turning around to head back to your new quarters. 

You couldn't help but scowl at the ground, absentmindedly chewing your lip.

'How're you fairing?'

You look up, your moody brooding session interrupted. It's Sif, and she looks mildly concerned.

'I must apologize for my outburst this morning. I should have more confidence that the all Father knows what he's doing.'

'He sure does.'

You sigh. 

'Lady Sif -

'Please, skip the formalities.'

She raises her hand.

'Sif will do just fine.'

Lowering her hand the two of you continue  walking, though you're not sure as to where you're headed.

'Sif, is there anything to do outside this gold mound?'

She smiles at you, answering rather happily for the first time you've heard. 

'There's much to do and see outside these halls. What do you wish to experience?' 

You inhale, worried about voicing your desires.

'I want to get very, very drunk.' 

At this Sif laughs, and you can't help but smile. 

'I've been looking for a new friend to share inebriated wanderings with. Let's traverse to the nearest tavern.'

- 

'And THAT is why I would be the  _greatest_  Queen Asgaurd has  _ever_  seen!'

Sif boomed across the bar finishing off her mead only to slam it down on the table. A drunken round of applause and hooting echoed around the tavern. As many of the patrons cheered to return to inebriated conversations. Sif simmers back into her seat, taking a look at you.

'You know (y/n)? The last Midgardian that was here, I was asked to get along with. But you, you are quite the Champion.'

'Thank you?'

You gurgle through your mouthful of mead. You were still on your first draft where as Sif had already downed three, well,  _buckets_. She teetered before falling back over the bench. Dropping your cup you manage to catch her without falling out of the bench yourself. With a grunt Sif rights herself to a sitting position, pulling herself back up using your shoulder as a support.

'Nothing has been the same since he left.'

She poured herself another tankard of the frothy beverage, taking a huge gulp. Wiping the foam off of her mouth with the back of her hand, she sighs looking at the table. One of her hands cradling the side of her own face, you noticed that she was dwelling on something pretty heavy.

'Sif?'

You asked gently placing your hand on her shoulder she was biting her lip tears welling up in her eyes. She was clearly still brewing over some recent emotional turmoil. 

'You wanna head back?'

With a sudden motion of her arm she brought her tankard to her lips downing the rest with deft skill. 

'Yes (y/n) I'll accompany you back to the castle.' 

You stood up to leave, but Sif had clearly drank more than her body was accustomed to. Allowing her to lean on you, she managed to ease herself out of the bench and away from the table. 

'Sif!'

The warrior looked up and cracked a grin, breaking away from you momentarily.

'Volstagg! A little late are we?' 

You manage to flash Volstagg an imploring look  _help me_  as Sif crashes back on top of you. 

'Seems like I arrived just in time.'

He swung her arm over his shoulder relieving most of her weight from your frame. The three of you make it out of the establishment slowly making your way to the back of the castle. 

'Sif, who left?'

You prod curiously. She only gave you a small smile, Volstagg sighs. 

'Still talking about Thor are we Sif?'

Sif nods, but she was mostly consumed on the task of keeping one foot in front of the other. Volstagg began to speak quietly, 

'Before Midgard was aware of our existence again - besides being  _gods_  or the like, Thor went to fight off what he presumed was an immediate threat. And started something he didn't quite plan.' 

Sif stumbled and the two of you caught her, and she blearily continued the story. 

'And then his oaf of a father banished him to earth, Mjolnir too.' 

Her words barely decipherable as they were so slurred together, 

'As though he was expecting some  _mortal_  to be capable of wielding the hammer. He didn't even let anyone on Asgaurd  _try_  to lift it.' 

At that, Sif reaches towards one of the sides of the golden entry way, but fails to make it in time. She burps and then vomits right down your leg.

'Oh dear.' 

You start breathing through your mouth trying to ignore her retching. You reach down patting her on the back.

'It's alright Sif, better out than in at this point.' 

She finished blessedly quickly getting back to the laborious process of walking, you tried to ignore the squelching in your flats. 

'To be honest, the punishment fit - we did act pretty irrationally. What really messed things up is when Loki found out he wasn't well, related to the royal family.' 

Volstagg grunted as Sif had stopped moving her feet. 

'C'mere Queen Sif.'

He lifted her effortlessly over his shoulder. 

'Looks like I'll be escorting the two of you back. Anyways, Odin could have handled that reveal much better. But he found it more convenient to take a nap.' 

Your face crinkled up in confusion. 

‘He  _what_?’ 

Volstagg chuckled at that point, ‘Well he was charging the Odin Force, if that makes it any better. You’d think he’d have found a way to time them a bit better though.’

At this point Volstagg was half way down the main hall in the castle. 

‘We all went to find Thor, as we got the sense that Loki had gone into the depths at that point. He was very clever, it’s a shame that he thought that Odin’s opinion was so important. Really threw him off. Ah! Here we are.’

Your troop stops in front of a gorgeously carved wooden door, you had been so enwrapped in the story you hadn’t noticed where you were. 

‘These are your new quarters. I’ll get this one back to her own room. Sleep well Lady (y/n). We’ll see you on the morrow I presume.’

You nod, and besides smelling like regurgitated beer and somewhat digested dinner, you were happy. 

‘Thanks Volstagg. Will you tell me the rest later?’ 

At this he laughs, and proclaims, 

‘You’re lucky I’ve had a few tankards, other wise you’d have never heard it!’ 

‘Well, good night.’ 

You smile as he waves, Sif blearily waving at you when he turns around.  _I have friends here._ You can’t help but feel calm.  

You turned around admiring the much larger room. It was well furnished, four poster bed, a wardrobe, full length mirror, a small table with what looked to be a very comfortable chair. Your suitcase had been placed at the foot of your bed. Opening a door to your left you discover a huge bathroom, which was similar to the one you had with your previous room, only this one contained a shower head. Eager to remove the current stench coating your legs, you hurried into the bathroom. You were relieved to see more softer, fluffier, towels.  

Stripping down you managed to figure out the taps which blessedly led to a hot steamy shower. A bizarre mix of soaps were at hand on an inlaid shelf and you didn't bother to ration them for later. You used every single one, just to see what they smelled like. 

When you were more than confident that you smelled somewhere between a meadow and a collection of incense, you stepped out, toweling your hair off and then your body, cinching the fabric around your chest working out most of the knots in your hair with your fingers. 

Opening the door, steam spills out impairing your vision. As it dissipates, you realize the room you've walked into is not the one you came from. 

The blinding color scheme of black and green fabrics with gold inlaid floors, walls, and ceilings makes you take a step back, while the door clicks shut behind you. 

'I see you managed to use the entire collection of soaps. They're supposed to last for a time, but I suppose you're allowed a  _little_  extravagance. '

The God appears to have been waiting for you, languishly lounging on an overly decorated green velvet chair.

Your hands tighten around your towel. Watching him as he sits up, pushing himself out of the chair striding forward to you, only clad in some leather pants that laced up over his abdomen. With a swift swipe of his hand, your towel is ripped from your body. Wrapping your arms around your chest, you desperately clench your knees together, trying to recover some of your dignity. He’s right in front of you before you can pick between running back to the magic bathroom or slapping him square across that gorgeous face. _Gorgeous face?_ Grabbing your wrists he rips your arms apart, biting the tops of your breasts before rolling your nipple between his teeth. You clench your jaw turning your head to the side refusing to give in and succumb as easily as you did before. The fury that you felt earlier bubbled up again. You were _stuck_ in Asgard, you wanted to make sure he got little to no pleasure from taunting you. He stops, lifting his head to eye level with you.

‘So embarrassing little mouse.’ 

Easily holding both of your wrists together. He pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. His left hand moves your chin, forcing you to look into those hypnotic emeralds.  Placing two of his fingers inside of your mouth slowly opening your lips. They slip past your teeth. You gag on his fingers as they hit the back of your throat. but he pulls them out gradually. Cooing,

‘Very good small one.’ 

Your face flushes as blood fills your cheeks. Your knees begin to tremble, you can’t help yourself, your abdomen pooling with warmth. You wanted him. Turning away trying to deny yourself of your primal desire, but no matter what you told yourself you craved his touch. Loki reaches down your back using both hands to clutch your ass as he lifts you off the floor, and you can feel his phallus pressed up against the laces of his pants, the warmth of it making your neck flush. He throws you onto a huge circular plush bed, with easily enough room for 10 more people or a horse. Landing on your back, your calves hanging off the side of the giant circle. You attempt to get away by beginning to push yourself up with your elbows. By the time you’ve pulled your torso up his hand worms his way up to your inner thigh, just keeping enough pressure to stop you from pulling your legs away. The other hand trailing behind, lightly tracing the inside of your legs. He slowly wrenches your thighs apart pulling his waist between them. He reaches forwards for your chest, kneading and pulling each breast. Releasing them, he lowers himself on top of you. His torso falls onto you, making your lungs struggle to get a full breath. Loki reaches for your hands, pulling them once more, over your head. You whimper your legs attempting to squeeze together desperately even though you know it’s pointless – all you’re doing is squeezing his waist. Your breathing comes in spurts as your frame struggles to support his weight. His lips smash into yours, he makes his way past your teeth with ease, playing with your tongue. He pulls himself off of you, a line of saliva trailing from your mouths – barely visible in the dimmed light.

‘Oh no, no, no, no pet, don’t worry,’ 

He shifts his fingers to restrain both of your hands with one as he licks his lips. Loki’s left hand slides down past your chest then stomach as he suddenly stands up, pulling you up half way to a sitting position.

‘We won’t be forgetting about this.’ Loki breathes huskily, his finger strokes your lower lips. He motions for you to move forward. You shake your head, quivering as you feel as though your back has been cemented to the mattress. Loki’s eyes roll, clearly annoyed.

‘Really dearest,’ He drawls sarcastically, ‘ I wasn’t planning on being rough with you but since you  _insist_.’ 

He wraps his free hand around your knee, yanking your waist nearly over the edge with a sharp jerk. Hips still carefully placed in between your knees. Two of  Loki’s fingers  begin to rub your clit, and your legs begin to jerk.  He lets out a dark laugh, taking great pleasure in watching you squirm.  His two fingers linger, and then slide down to your opening, beginning to prod and poke.  He looks back to you, and smirks as he reaches up and squeezes your breast, the moisture from your evident arousal leaving a glistening trail.

‘My, aren’t we just  _drenched_.’

He whispers, once more caressing your opening. Loki suddenly shoves two fingers into you.   _Schlick._  You gasp as he thrusts deep into you, your lower back starting to ache. He starts slowly, fingers slipping in and out of you, squelching wet noises entering your ears. A third is added and your opening warmly envelops them into your folds with a soft squish. He bites on your chest working his way down, sucking and chewing on the ends of your breasts. You breathing becomes shallow, his fingers speed up and you begin to pant, your breathing became a series of small gasps until your fingers suddenly curl into the sheets, and your throat utters a short, high moan, and you can feel a sudden pressure right below your navel and suddenly, you arch your back, shoulders shaking - you feel liquid give way to dribble down your thighs. Your butt and thighs twitch, off handedly squeezing his hand. He leers down at you, 

“mmn, not yet small one, You can wait a while longer.’

You pant, feeling sweat dripping slowly down the back of your neck. Your breath comes now in ragged gasps. He removes his other hand from your wrists, and you graciously bend your elbows. Your hands lay palm up, still well over your head. He lowers his hand, placing it on your stomach. He finally retracts the three fingers from inside you, raising them up to his mouth as he licks himself clean. Reaching to the leather strings, he pulls the laces free, his pants come loose, and he slides out of them, pulling himself over you, 

'How much do you hunger for me girl?' 

He hisses, not allowing you to answer as he forces his tongue into your mouth, pushing past your teeth he darts around your own tongue. Withdrawing, he bites your lower lip, only to release you to gnaw on your throat. You whimper as his fingers are back again to your clit briefly. 

Loki’s hands grab your hips rolling you over top of him until you’re straddling his core.

 Your head is barely working, you feel intoxicated – his scent is smothering you, and you have lost the will to try to get away. Your heart is beating a mile a minute. Loki’s hands rub your thighs, reaching for your hair, he grabs a clump above your forehead, dragging you towards his face, you can feel his breath against your cheek and you shudder in anticipation, while balancing yourself over him. His fingers push themselves back into your mouth. You can’t resist anymore.

‘Open wide.’

He smirks, pushing you towards his abdomen, you back up slowly, taking care that your knees avoid certain areas. He pushes you down, until you’re sitting in between his legs. You can’t help yourself, you reach forward licking the tip before your fingers wrap around it.

Grasping it gently in your hand, you lower your mouth to its base, slowly licking up his staff’s length, then placing it into your mouth, the tip just brushing your palette. You hear him grunt and he thrusts into your mouth. You gag, not expecting the sudden movement.  It’s so large, you try to withdraw your mouth but his hand is quickly knotted into the back of your hair, forcing your throat to take his entire length. He groans, you gag. You smack his leg in an attempt to let him know that you require oxygen.  Relieving some pressure from your head, he allows you to gulp some air, before pushing himself once again into your mouth. You attempt to keep up as he continues to shove himself into your gaping maw. He begins to thrust harder, going faster, giving you less and less opportunities for air. You can tell he’s getting close.

You try to pull your head back but he looses his load deep into your throat, cock twitching in between your lips, he pulls you off by your hair.

You close your mouth, not daring to find out what would happen if you were to spill a drop on him. He pulls you back by your hair, dragging you until your face is next to his. Two of his long fingers are placed over your mouth.

‘Swallow.’ 

He cajoles as though talking to a child. You gulp him down, and gasp air. Barely getting any air he kisses you again, letting your hair go he turns your hips until your slit is exposed. Your mouths part, and you sit up directly over his manhood, he pulls your hips down. You begin to grind against his staff. 

You can feel it hardening immediately underneath your movements.            

‘oh god.’ 

You croak absentmindedly, Loki smirks. He rubs the tip of his shaft against your slit, prodding you slowly.

‘Beg, you quim.’

Loki Keens, and you try to shove your hips down on to him. 

‘Please, Loki . . .’ 

You croon, watching his smirk become a fully blown grin. 

“ I want you, my King, my God – Loki, Loki please –“

He pushes himself into you, and you immediately begin to shove his length fully into your wet cunt, you can’t help but gasp as you ride him. Grinding hard, your breath becomes ragged as he slowly responds to your hasty work. His hips slowly start rolling in time with yours, his length kissing your sensitive workings making you moan in ecstasy, you arch your back no longer able to keep up with his increasingly faster strokes you hold yourself up with your hands, fists full of blanket. Each of his thrusts erupting into fireworks in your stomach, you don’t want to stop. He suddenly sits up sliding your waist down pushing himself deeper into you. He snaps at your tits as his left hand supports the small of your back as his other hand hungrily squeezes your breast, pulling at your nipple as he licks his way up your clavicle. Still inside you, you desperately rub against him as you release the sheets, your hands now clasping his hair, fists forming against his scalp. 

 You pant as Loki bites your neck, releasing it again only to tease it once more with his teeth, you gasp and moan with pleasure as he starts pumping slowly into you again before you can groan again he forces his lips onto yours, playing with your tongue as he explores your mouth. He continues to knead your breasts as he allows you to breath.

‘Say my name . . . ‘

He croons next to your ear, his face nestled into your neck as he nips it once more.

‘SAY IT.’ 

He commands, clawing at your back dragging his fingers, leaving angry red lines behind. His girth slipping and sliding into you, you moan, barely able to utter his name,

 ‘L-loki aah aannmm LOKI, LOKI!’

You manage to screech, your back curving backwards as you can feel yourself squirt, your shoulders shudder and your chest heaves, and he forces you back down onto the bed, getting a better angle to your opening, still pumping as you shriek his name,

He thrusts forcefully, ramming your body backwards as he lifts your legs pumping and pumping until he groans, his thrusts ceasing. Your chest bucks forward, you can feel your own orgasm echoing throughout your body. His shaft remains deep inside of you. With a final shudder he releases his seed.

You moan, you can feel yourself twitching as he pulls out. 

He falls on top of you, his breathing rushing against your neck. He stays like that for a while, and then rolls off of you.

Your chest still heaving, you crane your neck up, trying to get a better look at your surroundings – you have no idea where you are in the castle, and you barely got a look at the room earlier.  When suddenly, the room falls into darkness as one by one, the dimmed torches flicker and die.

‘No more exploring tonight – you can do that when Jötunheimr turns into a raging blaze.’

He whispers, almost panting as his arm emerges from the emerald sheets, dragging you back down into the massive, plush bed.

You don’t dare to push him away. So you listen to him breathe, the air getting sucked in only to be released on the back of your neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Weeknd is the best when you're writing smut. This took me so long, I'm sorry babes. The only time I've had to write is on the bus, which is hilarious, because I sit there praying no one's reading over my shoulder.I had the last scene written out since the first chapter. Apologies for the wait, I sincerely hope it was worth it! I have left references to other things in this chapter as well as previous ones! Lemme know if you find any of them C; Hope you guys dig the chapter. As always, love to hear your comments, concerns, etc. Until next time xxx


	8. Chapter 8

With a small yawn you stretch your arms over your head, squinting as your eyes get used to your surroundings. Eyes widening you see nothing but green, a tangle of sheets over your head. Pulling your arms back down the sheets are dragged away revealing the glimmering gold room.

 

'Oh my god.'

 

You whisper, stunned at the amount of detail that's inlaid into the floor as well as the ceiling. You attempt to start counting the loops of gold decorating the floor but you give up. There ‘s simply too many in varying sizes interwoven and your eyes can't process whether they came together or separated at the distance you were. You’d have to get on your hands and knees It was however, breathtakingly beautiful.

 

You notice a doorway to a potential bathroom, a dresser, wardrobe, a multiple large book shelves that encompassed the entire room, a small table covered with more books to the left, parchment covered in writing and drawings, quills, and ink, accompanied by a chair, a fireplace with only embers now, and a great green velvet chair that seemed very worn facing the embers, and another huge door that seemed to be the only plausible exit.

 

You look to your left, but the bed is empty. Exhaling deeply in relief, you swing your legs to the side, hopping out of the bed. Wincing you make it across the room, your groin aggravated as you shift your weight from hip to hip. You make it to the over decorated bathroom, grateful to relieve yourself. _Wait._ Your eyes slowly widen, as the entirety of what had occurred the night before. _Could I be? No. NO! It has to be certain days, on the ovulation cycle - one time couldn't possibly have that out come._ A lump in your throat forms and you swallow hard. You shove the intrusive thoughts from your head, going to the marble sink.  Splashing some water from the sink in your face, you towel it off, turning back to the library you were just slumbering in.

 

You peer out of the lavish bathroom, not fully convinced that you're alone. Arms still wrapped snug around your breasts, you rub your knees together, anxious to step out into the empty space. Taking a sharp breath, you quickly dart back to the bed, wincing. Diving into the plush sheets, almost content to fall back asleep. Almost.

 

Instead you sit up with a sigh, too paranoid to slumber on. If you were to think about ovulation any further you'd lose it.  Taking in the room once more, the wardrobe and dresser catch your eye.

 

With a grunt of pain, and a few steps, your hands tug at one of the dresser's handles. Neatly folded, lay a plethora of loose shirts. Lifting one of them out, it appeared to be hand stitched, the craftsmanship was incredible. _Fucking asgardians and all the time they have on their hands._ You roll your eyes taking a sniff. The shirts smelled lightly of leather and musk, opening the rest of the drawers and the wardrobe, you notice it's all men's clothes. More certainly by the tantalizing scent, _his_ clothes.

 

Pausing for a moment you make your decision, gleefully tearing through the drawers removing every object and throwing it behind you. Feeling extra brave, you even try to flip the huge mattress to no avail when you realized you didn't quite possess the body strength. Instead you settle to rip off the huge blankets and furs, throwing the pillows up so they catch behind the unlit torches, looking like green lumps growing from the walls. It takes you a few tries but once you get five up there and the rest strewn through out the room you're pretty pleased with yourself.

Still nude, you make the decision to clothe your body with what was available. With great effort and your teeth, you ripped up one white shirt making a continuous strip of fabric that you tie around your breasts concealing them from view. Some extra fabric remains and you use that to hold up some pants, which, _thank the gods_ , have belt loops. Tying it up tightly around your waist, you jump up and down a couple of times ensuring that nothing would move.

 

With a final touch you grab a shirt, thankfully not as large as the pants, through still painfully noticeably not yours.

 

With a sigh you look at your wrist, taking a breath in relief as you have somehow still managed to cling to a single hair tie.  Pulling your hair up and away from your eyes, you focus on your only exit.

 

At this, you finally get up to try the door, stumbling on the long pant legs, you quickly roll them up into cuffs.

 

Making it to the door you wrap your hand around the bejeweled handle, pushing down with all of your might it won't budge.

 

Groaning inwardly, you turn around, determined to get out of this room and at the least back to your new quarters. If you found Sif and Volstagg along the way they'd be more than happy to show you around. Which would keep you out of those skilled hands. You shiver involuntarily, biting your lip.

 

 _Maybe if I knock him out as he's coming in?_ You look back towards the bed for any blunt object, your eyes race across the room. _As he's entering the room I could hide, smack, and sprint?_

 

Your gaze falls on the torches - which were at least three meters up from the ground. Biting your lip in frustration, you eye the multiple bookcases encircling the room. None of which are immediately under one of the torches. _That would be too easy_. You set to work scaling one of the shelves pausing when the shelf wobbles from your added weight. _Oh gods please, let him not find me squashed under a mountain of books._ With a couple more quick, sure-footed propulsions upwards, you lift yourself to the top of the bookshelf, which wavers slightly. You sit at the top momentarily catching your breath but also waiting for the bookshelf to cease its small motions. Getting to your knees, you use the wall as a support and, rising with great patience, you finally stand up. Spreading your feet apart to steady yourself and the bookcase, it finally stills and you tremulously bring your feet closer together inching towards the unlit torch. Making it to the edge of the bookshelf you agonizingly notice that the only way you'll be able to get to it is by taking a running jump.

 

Closing your eyes you inhale long and slow. _You can do this, you can do this_ , the mantra repeats over and over in your head as you slowly back up to the opposite end of the bookshelf. Once at the end you exhale slowly, then, inhaling sharply, you break into the fastest sprint you can muster, face scrunched up in concentration, only having about three steps to launch yourself at the torch. Arms outstretched you push off the edge of the bookshelf with as much force as you can, feeling it rock violently as your foot leaves its surface, fingers grasping purchase around the neck of the torch. With a whoosh the huge shelf topples towards the ground, missing your legs by centimeters as you attempt to curl them closer to your core. Books spill all over the floor as the bookshelf follows smashing into the spilt texts with a sickening crunch. As you struggle to lift yourself up to give your self just a little more leverage to knock the damn torch loose. You pull up, and swing your weight forward to no avail. The torch isn't moving.

 

Looking down, your feet are still over three meters from the floor. With one more concentrated effort, you struggle to get your shaking arms to work for you when someone pounds on the main doors. You look up, frozen in place. The shaking in your arms gets worse, and your mind races - if you dropped down now you might make it to the bed in time - _what are you a child? Like you'd be safe under a mound of blankets_ \- the door bursts open, the light illuminating a figure from behind.

 

'(F/n)! Are you in here?!'

 

Your eyes widen, recognizing that voice as Agent Hill steps out of the doorway finally coming into focus. Her gun is drawn and her eyes sweep the room.

 

'I'm here! I'm here!'

 

You yell, near sobbing as the woman spots you - she immediately shouts over to you

 

'is anyone else in the room?'

 

'N-no!'

 

You splutter, your arms about to give out. The SHIELD agent puts her gun in her belt,  rushing over to stand as best she can, beneath you.

 

'Don't worry intern, I've got you, just drop I'll catch you.'

 

She calls with an even voice as you peer down at her, her hands reaching up to you.

Holding your breath, your grip lessens and you fall right into her arms. Sobs immediately begin to wrack your frame and she sits on the fallen bookshelf stroking your hair.

 

'H-hydra and L-loki working together. . . Hydra h-has t-th-threatened my my f-family a-and muh my fr-friends.'

 

You manage to get out as the brunette sits with you on her lap.

'We know (f/n) that's why we came looking for you.'

She speaks, clearly and calmly. But you notice the tears dotting the corners of her eyes. She cups your face, biting her lip, tears threatening to fall.

 

'I-I'm so, so sorry (f/n) - you were in my charge, and I had assumed that we were leaving you with good people - safe people. I've failed you.'

 

Her forehead touches your own and Maria shakes, her eyes sinking to the floor disappearing from view. Tears begin to drip from her face onto your lap. Your brow scrunches up in confusion and concern, wanting to comfort your superior, you manage to mumble,

 

'But you came to get me - you're here now!'

 

You wipe some of your tears away, and notice that Maria is doing the same. Composing herself once more to address the task at hand, she blinks a few times and then looks up.

 

'Can you walk intern?'

 

She asks slowly, studying your face.

 

'Yes, I'm sore, but uninjured. I can make it out of here.'

 

You manage to complete two whole sentences without hiccupping to your own surprise.

 

The agent nods sharply as she slowly helps you off of her lap and to your feet.

 

'It's only me here to save you, we couldn't invade Asgard with a force without calling it an act of war, we must move quickly and be undetectable.'

 

Holding on to your wrist she gently pulls you along, removing her gun from her waist as she pushes the elegantly ornate door open, peering down the hall. Stepping out, she takes care to move quickly. You look back at the doors, but they've vanished.

 

Her grip on you seems to tighten with every step. You begin to ask,

 

'The doors - how did you-'

 

'Thor told us what to look for - after growing up with his brother he knows what doesn't fit in at this point, and kindly showed a few of us how to navigate this gold ant hill.'

 

The two of you slink down the hallway, when the brunette pauses, placing two fingers on the center of one of the carvings of the wall, pushing down hard. An intricately carved archway shudders, moving down into the floor exposing a sparsely illuminated pathway. The agent steps in, motioning you to do the same.

You hesitate, as the dim light is coming from some strange bioluminescent fungus growing on the walls.

 

'(F/n) we don't have all the time in the world, we need to move quickly!'

 

She hisses, with a sharp tug to your wrist. You step under the archway wincing as your foot squelches into some unknown slimey substance. You regret immediately not even bothering to look for shoes.

 

'How, did you find this?'

 

You ask, more than a little incredulous. Your abdomen complains loudly as jog lightly to keep up with her, but your body manages the pain and you continue to follow her.

 

She holds up her wrist a small screen glowing blue.

 

'Installed a map of this place - given to us after your coworkers returned. Once we realized we still had an infestation of hydra still, we learned what had happened to you and they sent me up here. If it's true that Odin is no longer here, we have no idea how deep this take over goes.'

 

'They all think Odin's still on the throne!'

 

You inform her, the spark of hope becoming a flame.

 

'If we tell anyone, anyone here - they'll rally behind us! I'm sure of it!'

 

You conclude jovially, the tunnel has ended, and the agent stops in front of what seems to be another rock wall. Pushing a pattern of certain stones, the wall melts away into . . . Your old room.

 

The small bed and chest have remained the same, even the mirror leading to the bathroom is slightly ajar.

 

You turn back to the agent who has grown still, her arm across her stomach as her other hand supports her chin.

 

'We're waiting for things to calm down, as there no doubt others heard your little . . . accident.'

 

Her eyes glitter maliciously, a sneer curling her mouth.

 

'Making the loudest noise, ransacking that room really wasn't the greatest idea now was it?'

 

You raise your hands up to your chest, fingers curling. The woman takes a step forward her eyes roaming your poorly clothed figure.

 

'W-what are you talking about? Isn't t-that how y-you found me?'

 

You sputter, hurt that she was accusing you of being careless, shocked that her demeanor had changed so fast.

 

'That and the whole castle.' She mutters

 

Her hand runs through her brown hair pulling her usual tight bun out. Her hair falling to her shoulders, she saunters slowly over towards you. Your brows stitch together, confusion etching your face.

 

'You should also get out of these . . . Rags, and wear something a little more fitting.'

 

She pulls at your ill suited clothing her fingers loosening your make shift belt. You reach for them, scrabbling to hold them up. Eyes growing wide with alarm as the agent flashes you a devilish smile. Her hands slide under your loose shirt, fingers hooking under your wrappings and with a sudden yank, rip through your make shift boob cover. The strands of fabric fall uselessly to your waist. You somehow manage to find your voice, making sure to address the woman by her proper title.

 

'Agent Hill I could have guessed that you were at the very least bi curious, and honestly I’m flattered, but now is hardly the time. Don't you think? Agent Hill?'

 

You plead, your voice fading as you realize she's not even paying attention. She winds the front of the shirt in her fists, lifting the fabric over from your stomach.  Blood rushes to your face as her hands let go and slowly begin to crawl across your stomach to your back her nails digging into your sensitive flesh and you bite your lip, but a whimper escapes from you none the less.

 

'Are you sure?'

 

Maria whispers raspily, her eyes meet yours. She exhales and her breath flows over your face and it just smells so good you can't help yourself you nod numbly, her hands finally find your breasts. You let out a low moan and she smiles, her fingers digging into them. You gasp just as she plants a kiss on your mouth to silence you. She tastes so sweet you can't help but meekly explore with your tongue with which she returns vigorously. Her hands move to your back clawing and nearly tearing your flesh leaving more angry red marks to accompany Loki's. You wince in pain but it sends ripples of small sparks through you, sticky warmth pooling into your core. The pants lie in a pile at your ankles, completely forgotten.  Instinctively, your hands trail up her arms, you return her touch and scrapes with vigor until she elicits a groan. Hands moving towards her chest, your face is immediately flushed with blood when you realize she isn't wearing a bra. Her chest heaves forward and she grabs your shoulders pushing you back. The two of you move, still sloppily kissing each other until you're at the wall. Tongues slowly circling the other, small huffs of air escaping from your throat. She tastes smooth and kissing her feels as though you're sinking into a warm bath, soothing and comfortable.

Fumbling, you can't help but tug at the zipper of her SHIELD uniform and it comes down slowly.  She releases your shoulders and you place your hands on her chest, fingers moving deftly. You slide your fingers under the stretchy fabric, sliding it over her shoulders. She complies eagerly and you manage to work it down to her waist, the top half of her body now exposed. She retaliates by pulling your shirt off as well, the various bits of fabric that once covered your flesh now scattered about the tiles. With voracity she immediately bites your breast and you whimper, breathing in the sweet smell of her perfume. Her hair tickling your chest then your stomach as she works her way down to your abdomen, your breath becomes strained as you can feel her warm breath grace your quivering thighs.

Now on her knees, her thumbs deftly open your outer lips as her index fingers begin to massage that sensitive pink bud. You shudder with every stroke from her fingers, you can feel your knees go weak but you needed more. _So much more._ You look down and her eyes lock with yours, a small knowing smile graces her beautiful face as she slowly blows into your exposed folds. Heat races up your spine, your head falling back into the wall. Moaning with want, your abdomen twitches towards her, and you can feel her warm, soft tongue starting from the end of your slit and working its way into your crevice, twirling around your clit as she pauses to suck and tease oh so gently with her teeth. Your hands have shifted to her scalp, fingers entwined in her brown hair. You gasp for breath as her tongue flicks in and out, then continues with long deep strokes as her fingers leave deep crescents into your ass. She shifts back to your clit as her other hand begins to creep towards your entrance. One finger, then two, quickly slam into your folds your knees visibly starting to shake. Breathy moans leave your mouth as you do your best to stall sinking to the ground.

 

'M-maria -'

 

You manage to get out as she scrapes her teeth against your throbbing clit, her fingers still slipping and sliding in and out as another joins the first two. You can feel yourself squirt with a gasp as juice begins to dribble down your thighs. Pleased, she stops, and asks softy.

 

'Should we take this to the bed?'

 

You nod decisively, and at that she grins wickedly,

 

'Can you walk intern?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am still alive! Just took a hella long break! Remember that there's always a reason why something's tagged as F/F C:

**Author's Note:**

> *** ALSO: This is written for fun, and I'm having a great time doing so. But this story is essentially what I think of this character. None of you should be in a relationship like this in real life unless you've discussed to do things like this with your significant other (CONSENT IS KEY) I'm writing this because it's fun, but more importantly it's JUST A STORY. I would never ever stay in a relationship like this (again unless I trusted them and we had worked something out where stuff like this was manageable and I consented to it). Y'all look after yourselves.


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